"I'm afraid my niece has been wasting your time, sir," he said quietly,
"because I happen to have used that little instrument myself five months
ago. We had a dog who was hurt--you remember Franco, 'Toinette? And if
you carry your mind back you will also recollect that he had eventually
to be shot, and that I was forced to perform that unpleasant operation
myself. He was dear to me, that dog; he was--how do you call it?--a true
'pal'. It hurt me to do this thing, but I did it. And with that revolver
also. It was light. 'Toinette must have forgotten that I mentioned the
matter to her.
"I am afraid this can have no bearing upon the case--though the dear God
knows that I would do all I could to bring this terrible thing to an end,
if it lay in my power. That's is all, I think."
He bowed, and sat down again, beckoning his niece back to her seat with
a little frown. She cast a piteous look up into the coroner's face.
"I'm sorry," she said brokenly; "I had forgotten about that. Of course,
it is true, as my uncle said.
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