[VIII]
AN AWFUL IMPLICATION
"Never mind your opinions of your employers," commanded the coroner sternly. "Simply answer my questions. What did you do with the letters?"
"I took 'em to Miss Janet."
"Is that your custom?"
"Yes, sah. She looks 'em ober, an' if dey's bills she doesn't gib 'em to Mr. Pembroke till after breakfast, sah."
"Where was Miss Pembroke when you gave her the mail?"
"In her own room, sah, jes' finishin' dressin'."
"What did you do next?"
"Den Miss Janet she tole me to knock on Mr. Pembroke's door, so he'd know breakfas' was ready. An' I did, but he didn't answer. Gen'ally he hollers at me when I knock. So I knock again an' again, an' when he don't holler out cross-like, I 'mos' know sumpin's wrong. So I went and tol' Miss Janet dat her uncle didn't answer back. An' she say: 'Oh, pshaw, he's asleep. Knock again.'"