As I returned to my seat I stole a look toward a certain corner
where, with face bent down upon his hand, Francis Jeffrey sat
between Uncle David and the heavily-veiled figure of Miss Tuttle.
Had there dawned upon him as my testimony was given any suspicion of
the trick by which he had been proved responsible for those marks?
It was impossible to tell. From the way Miss Tuttle's head was
turned toward him, one might judge him to be laboring under an
emotion of no ordinary character, though he sat like a statue and
hardly seemed to realize how many eyes were at that moment riveted
upon his face.

I was followed by other detectives who had been present at the time
and who corroborated my statement as to the appearance of this
unhappy woman and the way the pistol had been tied to her arm. Then
the doctor who had acted under the coroner was called. After a long
and no doubt learned description of the bullet wound which had ended
the life of this unhappy lady, - a wound which he insisted, with a
marked display of learning, must have made that end instantaneous or
at least too immediate for her to move foot or hand after it, - he
was asked if the body showed any other mark of violence.

To this he replied

"There was a minute wound at the base of one of her fingers, the one
which is popularly called the wedding finger."

This statement made all the women present start with renewed interest;
nor was it altogether without point for the men, especially when the
doctor went on to say: