and she called a waiter and wrote a note which she sent around the table to me.
"The note said 'The dirty blackguard is here.' Then I turned and saw that fat scoundrel sitting there. big and healthy, and then I saw her and how she was."
"Did White make any motion to attack you?" was asked of Thaw.
"What?" said Thaw.
The question was repeated.
Thaw nodded his head in the affirmative.
From his pocket when he was searched there was taken a leather revolver shield such as policemen carry their weapons in. He had $168 in cash and several blank checks, besides a gold cigarette case.
Thaw did not display the least anxiety about his own welfare nor about the effects of his shots. He never asked a question about White. He did not ask any questions of the police at all. He seemed as unconcerned as if bailing out a chauffeur instead of facing an accusation of killing a man.
As he talked with a reporter he reverted again and again to his wife's attack of shivering when she saw White in Martin's.
"That poor, delicate little thing, all nervous and shaking like a reed," he said, half to himself. "And there he was, the big healthy scoundrel. God!"
While the coroner's proceedings were in progress in the city next day, the final scene of the tragedy as
