“To your knowledge, had Mary Gerrard any property to leave?”
“Not then, she hadn’t.”
“But she was shortly going to have?”
“Yes.”
“Is it not a fact that a considerable sum of money—two thousand pounds—was being given to Mary by Miss Carlisle?”
“Yes.”
“There was no compulsion on Miss Carlisle to do this? It was entirely a generous impulse on her part?”
“She did it of her own free will, yes.”
“But surely, if she had hated Mary Gerrard, as is suggested, she would not of her own free will have handed over to her a large sum of money.”
“That’s as may be.”
“What do you mean by that answer?”
“I don’t mean anything.”
“Exactly. Now, had you heard any local gossip about Mary Gerrard and Mr. Roderick Welman?”
“He was sweet on her.”
“Have you any evidence of that?”
“I just knew it, that’s all.”
“Oh—you ‘just knew it.’ That’s not very convincing to the jury, I’m afraid. Did you say on one occasion Mary would have nothing to do with him because he was engaged to Miss Elinor and she said the same to him in London?”
“That’s what she told me.”
Sir Samuel Attenbury re-examined:
“When Mary Gerrard was discussing with you the wording of this will, did the accused look in through the window?”
“Yes, she did.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘So you’re making your will, Mary. That’s funny.’ And she laughed. Laughed and laughed. And it’s my opinion,” said the witness viciously, “that it was at that moment the idea came into her head. The idea of making away with the girl! She’d murder in her heart that very minute.”
The judge spoke sharply:
“Confine yourself to answering the questions that are asked you. The last part of that answer is to be struck out….”
Elinor thought:
“How queer… When anyone says what’s true, they strike it out….”
She wanted to laugh hysterically.
II
Nurse O’Brien was in the box.