“He had been arrested at Marseilles, where he was preparing to start for Colombo.

“I don’t think he realized how terrible his position really was until later in the proceedings, when all the evidence relating to the arrest had been heard, and Emma Funnel had repeated her statement as to Mr. Errington’s call at 19, Addison Row, in the morning, and Mrs. Hazeldene starting off for St. Paul’s Churchyard at 3.30 in the afternoon.

“Mr. Hazeldene had nothing to add to the statements he had made at the coroner’s inquest.  He had last seen his wife alive on the morning of the fatal day.  She had seemed very well and cheerful.

“I think every one present understood that he was trying to say as little as possible that could in any way couple his deceased wife’s name with that of the accused.

“And yet, from the servant’s evidence, it undoubtedly leaked out that Mrs. Hazeldene, who was young, pretty, and evidently fond of admiration, had once or twice annoyed her husband by her somewhat open, yet perfectly innocent, flirtation with Mr. Errington.

“I think every one was most agreeably impressed by the widower’s moderate and dignified attitude.  You will see his photo there, among this bundle.  That is just how he appeared in court.  In deep black, of course, but without any sign of ostentation in his mourning.  He had allowed his beard to grow lately, and wore it closely cut in a point.

“After his evidence, the sensation of the day occurred.  A tall, dark-haired man, with the word ‘City’ written metaphorically all over him, had kissed the book, and was waiting to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth.

“He gave his name as Andrew Campbell, head of the firm of Campbell & Co., brokers, of Throgmorton Street.

“In the afternoon of March 18th Mr. Campbell, travelling on the Underground Railway, had noticed a very pretty woman in the same carriage as himself.  She had asked him if she was in the right train for Aldersgate.  Mr. Campbell replied in the affirmative, and then buried himself in the Stock Exchange quotations of his evening paper.

“At Gower Street, a gentleman in a tweed suit and bowler hat got into the carriage, and took a seat opposite the lady.

“She seemed very much astonished at seeing him, but Mr. Andrew Campbell did not recollect the exact words she said.

“The two talked to one another a good deal, and certainly the lady appeared animated and cheerful.  Witness took no notice of them; he was very much engrossed in some calculations, and finally got out at Farringdon Street.  He noticed that the man in the tweed suit also got out close behind him, having shaken hands with the lady, and said in a pleasant way:  ‘Au revoir!  Don’t be late to-night.’  Mr. Campbell did not hear the lady’s reply, and soon lost sight of the man in the crowd.

“Every one was on tenter-hooks, and eagerly waiting for the palpitating moment when witness would describe and identify the man who last had seen and spoken to the unfortunate woman, within five minutes probably of her strange and unaccountable death.