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The witness paused as if she would question her own heart before answering, and the coroner waited patiently, with apparent understanding of the need. A hush fell on the room, like that which had followed the reading of the remarkable paper. Then Mrs. Parlin looked directly at the coroner and answered distinctly and without a tremor in her voice:
“I think it would.”
“Thank you,” said the coroner. “I am sorry if I have in any way disturbed you unnecessarily in this examination. I know that you believe I have aimed simply at my duty.”
CHAPTER III
Alive at Midnight
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AN hour after the close of the day’s session, Mrs. Parlin was in her sitting room, with the door closed and the shades lowered. On the opposite side of the small light-stand sat a rather undersized man, plainly dressed, and of somewhat insignificant aspect. Distinctly, the woman in her was disappointed.
“I have sent for you, Mr. Trafford,” she said, slowly and apparently reluctantly, “because both my husband and Theodore—Mr. Wing—had the utmost confidence in your ability. I want you to find Mr. Wing’s murderer. It’s not a matter of cost—I simply want him found.”