Jennie Brice was
dead. The body found at Sewickley could not be Jennie Brice's. The
body found at Sewickley _was_ Jennie Brice's. And so it went on.
The defense did an unexpected thing in putting Mr. Ladley on the
stand. That day, for the first time, he showed the wear and tear of
the ordeal. He had no flower in his button-hole, and the rims of his
eyes were red. But he was quite cool. His stage training had taught
him not only to endure the eyes of the crowd, but to find in its gaze
a sort of stimulant. He made a good witness, I must admit.
He replied to the usual questions easily. After five minutes or so Mr.
Llewellyn got down to work.
"Mr. Ladley, you have said that your wife was ill the night of March
fourth?"
"Yes."
"What was the nature of her illness?"
"She had a functional heart trouble, not serious."
"Will you tell us fully the events of that night?"
"I had been asleep when my wife wakened me. She asked for a medicine
she used in these attacks. I got up and found the bottle, but it was
empty. As she was nervous and frightened, I agreed to try to get some
at a drug store.
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