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Updated: May 29, 2025
Parminter motioned the official who had charge of it to place the tray of rings on the ledge of the witness-box. "Oblige me by looking at that tray and the contents," he said. "You recognize it, of course? Just so. Now, do you know where that tray was when you went out, leaving your grandfather alone, yesterday afternoon?" "Yes," replied Zillah, unhesitatingly.
While his gaze roved up and down the line of carriages a couple of women, one of whom seemed to know him, swam into his range of vision and distracted his attention. It was nearly ten years since he had seen Judith Parminter, and he stared for a moment in bewilderment. Fashion had undergone in those years one of its rare basic changes.
"And you can't you are on your oath remember! you can't definitely say that those two rings were not picked up from that tray, amongst the others?" "No," replied Zillah. "But I can't say that they were! And I don't believe they were. I don't believe they were our rings!" Mr. Parminter smiled quietly and again swept the interested jurymen with his quick glance.
With a gesture of his hand, Archie Parminter stopped Barstow on his way to the door. Sylvia leaned back against the wall of the staircase, holding her breath, and tightly pressing a hand upon her heart. Had they seen her? Would they come out into the passage? What would happen? Would they kill her? The questions raced through her mind.
I don't mean by you but these here gentlemen, the police, and Mr. Parminter there, is going off on a wrong scent. I know what they're after, and they're wrong! They're suppressing evidence, Mr. Coroner." Melky turned on Ayscough. "What about the clue o' this here old book?" he demanded. "Why ain't you bringing that forward?
"How much money had you in the world when you went to the pawnshop yesterday afternoon?" demanded Mr. Parminter, with a sudden keen glance. Lauriston flushed scarlet. "If you insist on knowing," he said. "I'd just nothing."
Nothing much was asked of Melky, and nothing beyond bare facts volunteered by him: the astute Mr. Parminter left him alone.
"I am a writer of fiction!" replied Lauriston. Mr. Parminter pulled out a snuff-box and helped himself to a pinch. "Have you published much?" he enquired, drily. "Two or three stories short stories." "Did they bring in much money?" "Five pounds each." "Have you done anything else for a living but that since you came to London two years ago?" "No, I haven't!"
"I believe you assisted your late grandfather in his business?" suggested Mr. Parminter. "Just so! Now, how long had you assisted him in that way?" "Ever since I left school three years ago," replied Zillah. "Three years to be sure! And I believe you had resided with him for some years before that?" "Ever since I was a little girl," admitted Zillah. "In fact, the late Mr. Multenius brought you up?
"Now, did Lauriston, on Sunday, or when you saw him before, ever mention to you that he possessed two rings of some value?" "No," replied Zillah. Mr. Parminter paused, hesitated, suddenly bowed to the Coroner, and dropping back into his seat, pulled out his snuff-box. And the Coroner, motioning Zillah to leave the witness-box, interrupted Mr. Parminter in the midst of a pinch of snuff.
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