“Well you can find out, I should think.”
“I never heard of a doctor who couldn’t determine the cause of a simple, natural death of one of his own patients!” Eunice’s glance was scathing and her tones full of scorn.
But the doctor realized the nervous tension she was under, and forbore to take offense, or to answer her sharply.
“Well, well, we’ll see about it,” he temporized. “I shall first call in Marsden, a colleague of mine, in consultation. I admit I’m at the end of my own knowledge. Tell me the details of last evening. Was Mr. Embury just as usual, so far as you noticed?”
“Of course he was,” said Eunice, biting the words off crisply. “He went to the Athletic Club he’s a candidate for the presidency—”
“I know—I know—”
“And I—I was at a party. On his way from the club he called for me and brought me home in our car. Then he went to bed almost at once—and so did I. That’s all.”
“You heard no sound from him whatever during the night?”
“None.”
“As nearly as I can judge, he died about daybreak. But it is impossible to say positively as to that. Especially as I cannot find the immediate cause of death. You heard nothing during the night, Miss Ames?”