“You say she was ‘stealing.’ Describe how she came. Did she give the impression of trying to go—unseen?”
“Yes. I don’t think she wanted any one to see her. She went on tip-toe.”
“Did she carry anything in her hands?”
“Yes. She had a black book, not big and not little either. She had it under her arm. She crept along the hall, and a door opened to let her in.”
“What door was it?”
“The door of Mr. Nealman’s suite—a little hall, with one door leading into his chamber—the other to his study.”
“Nealman opened the door for her, then?”
“Yes. I saw his sleeve as he closed it behind her.”
The coroner’s face grew stern, and he turned once more to Edith. To all outward appearance she hadn’t heard the testimony. She leaned easily in her big chair, and her palm rested under her chin. Her eyes were shadowy and far-away.
“How can you account for that, Miss Nealman?” Weldon asked.