“Your name is Marshall?” opened Baddeley.
“Amy Marshall.”
“You’ve been here some time?”
“Three years in October.”
“Your daily duties, I presume, took you into the billiard room this morning?”
Marshall shot a scared glance at him through half closed eyes.
“I sweep and clean several rooms before breakfast—the billiard room every morning, as it has usually been in use the night before.”
“Was the billiard room the first room you did this morning?”
“No, sir! I had swept and polished two floors before I went into the billiard room.”
“Was the door open when you came to it?”