Meanwhile listen to me. When Mr.
Cresswell came to you and broke out into this tirade, which you say
you remember, on the subject of will, did he not show any excitement?"
"Eh?"
"Did he get excited, very hot and eager? Did he speak unusually loud,
or make any curious gestures with his hands? Did he do anything, that
you can remember, such as an ordinary man would not do?"
"Why, yes," Cuckoo answered. "So he did."
"Ah! What was it? What did he do?"
"Well, after he'd been talkin' a bit he caught hold of me and pulled me
in front of the glass. See?"
"Yes, yes."
"And he made me look into it."
"What for?"
But at this point Cuckoo got restive.
"I--I can't remember," she murmured, almost sullenly, recalling
Valentine's bitter sarcasms on her appearance and way of life.
"Never mind, then. Leave that. But after; what came next?"
"While we was standin' like that he seemed to get frightened or
somethin', like he saw somethin' in the glass. He was frightened, scared,
and he hit out all on a sudden, just where my face was in the glass, and
smashed it."
"Smashed the glass?"
"Yes. And then he snatched hold of me and looked in my eyes awful queer,
and then he burst out laughin' and says as the mirror was tellin' him
lies.
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