"Some were entirely closed," he said, slowly; "others were more or less open."
"Well, which ones were more or less open?"
"Doctor Westbrook's was—" he began; but the Coroner quickly interrupted:
"Did you notice it first?"
Silence. The young man sat rigid as a statue.
"Please answer, Mr. Lynden."
The insistence was soft, but inexorable. The witness seemed to have lost the power of speech, and was obliged to clear his throat before he could reply.
"Sir," he finally began, "I was not thinking of the doors, nor was I particularly observing whether they were open or closed. I will say this, however, in the hope that you will find the information you desire: that it is customary for the tenants of the Nettleton Building to leave their doors unfastened when departing in the evening, for the benefit of the janitor. As soon as he has cleaned the rooms, he locks the doors for the night. For that reason, I suppose, it would be safe to assume that those rooms whence the occupants had gone for the night were unlocked—in the event, of course, that the janitor had not yet placed them in order."
"The information is valuable, Mr. Lynden; but you stated that some doors were entirely closed, while others were more or less open. I will put my question in another way. Which was the first door you observed to be entirely closed?"
"That to number six."