“Was it Mr. Warren's habit to have his door locked when working in his library?” asked the coroner.
“I never knew him to lock it, sir. It was a fairly warm day, and Mr. Warren since he has been in China and South America liked plenty of heat.”
The coroner glanced at some notes he had, then asked:
“Did any one come to the house during the afternoon—any one who wanted to see Mr. Warren?”
The woman's voice was eager as she replied: “Yes, sir, a Chinaman.”
The room stirred as one person and I could see the people bend forward for the next question.
“What did you mean by your last answer?”
“Just a little before six the door bell rang. When I went to the door there was a Chinaman there. He wore a white suit and asked for Mr. Warren. I told him where the library was and showed him how to get there. He thanked me and went up the walk to the building.”
“Did you see him again?”
“No, sir, I did not see him again. I never saw him before for that matter. He did not give any name.”