She had
ordered him to drive home as rapidly as he could, and he had not
stopped until he reached the house. Her gown? Yes, he had noticed that
it was a dark red. He had not seen her face, for it was veiled. No,
he had never before driven her to that locality.
Quaking at heart, I realized that only one person could extricate
Frances Holladay from the coil woven about her. If she persisted in
silence, there was no hope for her. But that she should still refuse
to speak was inconceivable, unless----
"That is all," said the coroner. "Will you cross-examine the witness,
Mr. Royce?"
My chief shook his head silently, and Brooks left the stand.
Again the coroner and Singleton whispered together.
"We will recall Miss Holladay's maid," said the former at last.
She was on the stand again in a moment, calmer than she had been, but
deadly pale.
"Are your mistress's handkerchiefs marked in any way?" Goldberg asked,
as she turned to him.
"Some of them are, yes, sir, with her initials, in the form of a
monogram. Most of them are plain."
"Do you recognize this one?" and he handed her the ghastly piece of
evidence.
I held my breath while the woman looked it over, turning it with
trembling fingers.
"No, sir!" she replied emphatically, as she returned it to him.
"Does your mistress possess any handkerchiefs that resemble this one?"
"Oh, yes, sir; it's an ordinary cambric handkerchief of good quality
such as most ladies use.
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