Belcher.
"I did."
"Then you can give the jury her name?"
Before Grant could answer, Ingerman sprang up, his sallow face livid
with passion.
"I protest, sir, against this man being permitted to identify my
wife," he said.
He was either deeply moved, or proved himself an excellent actor. His
flute-like voice vibrated with an intense emotion. Thus might Mark Antony
have spoken when vowing that Brutus was an honorable man.
"Who are you?" demanded the coroner sharply.
"Isidor George Ingerman, husband of the deceased lady," came the
clear-toned reply.
"Well, sit down, sir, and do not interrupt the court again," said
the coroner.
"I demand, sir, that you note my protest."
"Sit down! Were you any other person I would have you removed. As it is,
I am prepared to regard your feelings to the extent of explaining that
the witness is not identifying the body but relating a fact within his
own knowledge."
Ingerman bowed, and resumed his seat.
For some reason, Grant stared blankly at Furneaux. The latter did not
meet his glance, but put a finger on those thin lips. It might, or might
not, be a warning to repress any retort he had in mind.
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