"And his remarks offended you?" "My opinion on this point is of no consequence, I imagine." "You then left the door step of the Veterans' Club, and a moment later the deceased joined you in the street." "I finally left the club soon after nine, but I did not again see Mr. Philip de Mountford alive." "The deceased suggested that you should come with him then and there to see Lord Radclyffe at Grosvenor Square; he hailed a taxicab and you entered it with him," insisted the coroner with sudden, slow emphasis. "I last saw Mr. Philip de Mountford alive in the lobby of the Veterans' Club," reiterated Luke calmly, "soon after nine o'clock." "He overtook you in the street outside the club?" "It is not true." "And hailed a cab?" "He may have done so, but not in my company." "You entered the cab with him, and he told the driver to follow along Piccadilly." "He may have done so," once more reiterated Luke in the same calm and even voice, "but not in my company." "You parted from him in the lobby of the club?" "I have told you so." "And you never saw him again after that?" "Never." "You were not with him when he came out of the club?" "No." "When he hailed a taxicab?" "No." "You were not with him when he entered the cab and put his head out of the window, telling the driver to go along Piccadilly until he was stopped?" "No." The answers had come clear, sharp, and distinct, quick ripostes of the foils against the violent attack. Now the adversary drew breath. The pause was dramatic in its effect, far-reaching in its significance. The coroner with eyes steadily fixed on the witness made a quick movement with his hand. He drew away the long narrow strip of green baize in front of him, revealing a snake-wood stick, with ferrule stained and tarnished. "Is this your stick?" he asked curtly. "It is my stick," replied Luke. He had not flinched, yet there were many scores of pairs of eyes fixed upon him, when that green baize covering was removed. But not one of those who gazed so steadily upon him could boast that he or she had seen the slightest tremor of the lids or the merest quiver of the mouth. The voice sounded perfectly clear, the cheeks, though pale, had assumed no grayish hue. "Very well. That will do," said the coroner quietly.