"I ... I have something to say, Mr. Coroner," she said in a clear, high
voice. "Something to show you, also. See!" She pushed her way through the
crowd that opened to admit her, gaping at her as she came rapidly to the
coroner's table and held out the object. It was a small-sized revolver,
identical in every detail to that which lay upon the coroner's table.
"That," she said clearly, her voice rising higher and higher, as she
looked into Merriton's face for a single instant and smiled wanly, "that,
Mr. Coroner, is a revolver identical with the one which you have there.
It is the same make, the same bore--_everything_!"
"So it is!" For a moment the coroner lost his calm. He lifted an excited
face to meet her eyes, "Where did you get it, Miss Brellier?"
"From the top drawer of the secretaire in the little boudoir at Withersby
Hall," she said calmly, "where it has always lain. You will find a shot
missing. Everything the same, Mr. Coroner; _everything_ the same!"
"It belongs to some member of your household, Miss Brellier?"
She took a step backward and drew a sharp breath.
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