“You didn’t suggest that the morphia had been left on the mantelpiece in your cottage?”
“Well, when I couldn’t find it I thought that must have been what had happened.”
“In fact, you didn’t really know what you’d done with it!”
“Yes, I did. I put it in the case.”
“Then why did you suggest on the morning of June 29th that you had left it at home?”
“Because I thought I might have done.”
“I put it to you that you’re a very careless woman.”
“That’s not true.”
“You make rather inaccurate statements sometimes, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t. I’m very careful what I say.”
“Did you make a remark about a prick from a rose tree on July 27th—the day of Mary Gerrard’s death?”
“I don’t see what that’s got to do with it!”
The judge said:
“Is that relevant, Sir Edwin?”
“Yes, my lord, it is an essential part of the defence, and I intend to call witnesses to prove that that statement was a lie.”
He resumed:
“Do you still say you pricked your wrist on a rose tree on July 27th?”
“Yes, I did.”
Nurse Hopkins looked defiant.
“When did you do that?”
“Just before leaving the Lodge and coming up to the house on the morning of July 27th.”
Sir Edwin said sceptically:
“And what rose tree was this?”
“A climbing one just outside the Lodge, with pink flowers.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I’m quite sure.”
Sir Edwin paused and then asked:
“You persist in saying the morphia was in the attaché case when you came to Hunterbury on June 28th?”
“I do. I had it with me.”
“Supposing that presently Nurse O’Brien goes into the box and swears that you said you had probably left it at home?”