ply.

"Well, sit down, sir, and do not interrupt the court again," said
the coroner.

"I demand, sir, that you note my protest."

"Sit down! Were you any other person I would have you removed. As it is,
I am prepared to regard your feelings to the extent of explaining that
the witness is not identifying the body but relating a fact within his
own knowledge."

Ingerman bowed, and resumed his seat.

For some reason, Grant stared blankly at Furneaux. The latter did not
meet his glance, but put a finger on those thin lips. It might, or might
not, be a warning to repress any retort he had in mind. At any rate,
obeying a nod from the coroner, he merely said:

"She was a well-known actress, Miss Adelaide Melhuish."

Mr. Belcher's pen hesitated a little. Then it scratched on. Undoubtedly,
he was himself exercising the restraint he meant to impose on others.

"You are quite sure?" he said, after a pause.

"Quite."

"Thank you, Mr. Grant. Wait here until you sign your deposition. Of
course, you are aware that this inquiry will stand adjourned, and the
whole matter will be gone into fully at a later date."

"So I have been informed, sir."

Ingerman was the next witness. _He_, like a good democrat, kissed the
cover of the Bible. The coroner began by giving him some advice.

"This is a purely formal inquiry, to permit of a death certificate being
issued. You will oblige me, therefore, by answering my questions without
introducing any extraneous subject."

Ingerman adhered to these instructions. Having already shot a
carefully-prepared bolt, he meant avoiding any further conflict with
the authorities. His evidence was brief and to the point. The deceased
was his wife. They were married at a London registrar's office on a
given date, six years ago. His wife acted under her maiden name. There
was no family.

The court was well lighted by four long windows in the eastern wall,
which each witness faced, so Grant was free to study his avowed enemy at
leisure. He thought he made out a crafty underlook in Ingerman which he
had failed to detect the previous night. That slow, smooth voice seemed
to weigh each syllable. Such a man would never blurt out an unconsidered
admission. He was a foe to be reckoned with. The subtle malignancy of
that well-timed outburst was proof positive in that respect.

The jury, apparently, attached much weight to his words. On some faces
there was an expectancy which merged into marked disappoi