"You did not remain before these book-shelves long?" observed the
coroner.
"You have a witness who knows more about that than I do," she
suggested; and doubtless aware of the temerity of this reply, waited
with unmoved countenance, but with a visibly bounding breast, for
what would doubtless prove a fresh attack.
It was a violent one and of a character she was least fitted to meet.
Taking up the box I have so often mentioned, the coroner drew away
the ribbon lying on top and disclosed the pistol. In a moment her
hands were over her ears.
"Why do you do that?" he asked. "Did you think I was going to
discharge it?"
She smiled pitifully as she let her hands fall again.
"I have a dread of firearms," she explained. "I always have had.
Now they are simply terrible to me, and this one -"
"I understand," said the coroner, with a slight glance in the
direction of Durbin. They had evidently planned this test together
on the strength of an idea suggested to Durbin by her former action
when the memory of this shot was recalled to her.
"Your horror seems to lie in the direction of the noise they make,"
continued her inexorable interlocutor. "One would say you had
heard this pistol discharged."
Instantly a complete breaking-up of her hitherto well maintained
composure altered her whole aspect and she vehemently cried:
"I did, I did.
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