"No, he was delirious. He spoke of his father several times, and it appeared to me to be my duty to make him acquainted with his son's dangerous condition. There was no one else to go but myself, and I went to Catchpole Square because I considered it right to do so." The Juror (who had taken so conspicuous a part in Monday's proceedings): "When he spoke of his father, what were his precise words?" The Coroner: "I do not think the witness should be asked that question." Florence: "Oh, yes, there is nothing to conceal. He simply said, 'My father, my father!' and I gathered from that that he wished to see him. It was natural that I should think so." The Coroner: "Quite natural. You arrived at Catchpole Square, and knocked at the door of the deceased?" "Yes, I knocked a good many times, but no one answered me. As I was about to leave the square I heard voices, and saw, very dimly, two men very close to me. I did not know they were policemen, and one of them called out to me to stop, and caught hold of me. I was so frightened that I tore myself away, and ran out of the Square as quickly as I could." The Juror: "Did you know at that time that your husband was not on good terms with his father?" The Coroner: "You need not answer that question." "I wish to answer every question. I did know it, and I knew that there was no fault on my husband's part. It was my hope that his illness would lead to a reconciliation between them. I thank God that my husband is spared to me, but if he had died I should never have forgiven myself if I had not made the attempt to bring his father to him." "Thank you, Mrs. Boyd; that is all we have to ask." A buzz of admiration ran through the court as Florence returned to her seat by Reginald's side. Dr. Talbot Rowbottom, of Harley Street, a member of the Royal College of Surgeons and a doctor of medicine, was then called. "You examined the body of the deceased?" "Yes, on Sunday, at the request of Mr. Reginald Boyd, who wrote me a note to that effect. I had read of the discovery of the body in the newspapers, and, anticipating an inquest, I called first upon you, as coroner of the district, and received your permission to make the examination." "Did the deceased die a natural death?" "No. He met his death by strangulation." "You have no doubt upon the subject?" "Not the slightest." "He could not have strangled himself?" "From the condition of the body that is impossible." "Does your examination of the body warrant you in saying that there was resistance on the part of the deceased?" "Great resistance. There is every indication of a violent struggle having taken place." "So that the orderly state of the bed and bedclothes was unnatural?" "Most unnatural. After the deed was done singular care must have been taken to compose the limbs and arrange the bedclothes." "Do you consider it likely that, during the struggle, the deceased succeeded in getting out of bed?"