I paid very little attention to my mother's actual
words."
Mr. Philips' incredulous sniff was a triumph of forensic skill.
He passed on to the subject of the note.
"You have produced this note very opportunely. Tell me, is there
nothing familiar about the hand-writing of it?"
"Not that I know of."
"Do you not think that it bears a marked resemblance to your own
hand-writing--carelessly disguised?"
"No, I do not think so."
"I put it to you that it is your own hand-writing!"
"No."
"I put it to you that, anxious to prove an alibi, you conceived
the idea of a fictitious and rather incredible appointment, and
wrote this note yourself in order to bear out your statement!"
"No."
"Is it not a fact that, at the time you claim to have been
waiting about at a solitary and unfrequented spot, you were
really in the chemist's shop in Styles St. Mary, where you
purchased strychnine in the name of Alfred Inglethorp?"
"No, that is a lie."
"I put it to you that, wearing a suit of Mr. Inglethorp's
clothes, with a black beard trimmed to resemble his, you were
there--and signed the register in his name!"
"That is absolutely untrue.
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