“There’s nothing I can say about it,” was her quiet answer.
“You admit it’s true, then?”
“I can’t make Mrs. Gentry out a liar.” It seemed to me that a dim smile played at her lips; but it was a thing even closely watching eyes might easily mistake. “It’s perfectly true.”
“Then why, Miss Nealman, did you tell us a few minutes ago you hadn’t seen Mr. Nealman since afternoon? That was a lie, was it not? I didn’t ask you to take formal oath when you gave me your testimony. I presumed you’d stay by the truth. Why did you tell us what you did?”
“I didn’t see any use in trying to explain. I didn’t tell you—because Mr. Nealman asked me not to.”
A little shiver of expectancy passed over the court. “What do you mean?”
“Just that—he asked me to tell no one about my visit to the little study adjoining his room. The whole thing was simply this—there’s certainly no good in withholding it any more. About eleven he rang for me. There is a bell, you know, that connects that study with my room. I answered it as I’ve always done. He asked me if I had a Bible—and I told him I did. He asked me to get it for him, as quietly as possible.
“I got it—quietly as possible—just as he said. There was nothing very peculiar about it—he often wants some book out of the library. I gave him the book and he dismissed me, first asking me to tell no one, under any conditions, that he had asked for it. I didn’t know why he asked it, but he is my employer, and I complied with his request. Mrs. Gentry saw me as I was coming down the hall with the Bible under my arm. I didn’t tell you about it because he asked me not to.”
“It was your Bible, then, that we found in his room?”
“Of course.”