under the control of
an equally forcible will, made her a puzzle to all men's minds; but
it was a fascinating puzzle that awoke a species of awe in those
who attempted to understand her. To all appearances she was the
unlikeliest woman possible to cherish criminal intents, yet her
answers were rather clever than convincing, unless you allowed
yourself to be swayed by the look of her beautiful face or the music
of her rich, sad voice.

"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. I was on Waverley Avenue that night, and I heard
the shot which in all probability ended my sister's life. I walked
farther than I intended; I strolled into the street which had such
bitter memories for us and I heard--No, I was not in search of my
sister. I had not associated my sister's going out with any
intention of visiting this house; I was merely troubled in mind and
anxious and--and--"

She had overrated her strength or her cleverness. She found herself
unable to finish the sentence, and so did not try. She had been
led by the impulse of the moment farther than she had intended, and,
aghast at her own imprudence, paused with her fi