“I have my own reasons, and I refuse to tell.”
Mr. Benson changed his tactics.
“Miss Morton,” he said, “when did you first know that you were to inherit this house and also a considerable sum of money at the death of Miss Van Norman?”
The effect of this sudden question was startling. Miss Morton seemed to be taken off her guard. She turned red, then paled to a sickly white. Once or twice she essayed to speak, but hesitated and did not do so.
“Come, come,” said the coroner, “that cannot be a difficult question to answer. When was your first intimation that you were a beneficiary by the terms of Miss Van Norman’s will?”
And now Miss Morton had recovered her bravado.
“When the will was read,” she said in cold, firm accents.
“No; you knew it before that. You learned it when you went to Miss Van Norman’s room and read some papers which were in her desk. You read from a small private memorandum book that she had bequeathed this place to you at her death.”
“Nothing of the sort,” returned the quick, snappy voice. “I knew it before that.”
“And you just said you learned of it first when the will was read!”