"Can you tell me who killed Kirkstone?" asked the detective.
"That's one thing I don't know for certain," replied the dame; "but if you arsk me, sir, I bel've as Miss Gilmar did."
"On what grounds do you suspect her?"
"Becose she wrote out summat telling the truth and hid it; and she wouldn't have done that, unless she were guilty. Then she were in love with Mr. Dean, and Mr. Kirkstone wanted him to marry Miss Laura; so I thinks as Miss Ellen got 'em both out of the way. She was a clever one, was Miss Ellen."
"Do you know where the confession is?"
"No, I don't. Martin was always hunting for it to clear himself, but if he found it he didn't tell me."
"And Martin is Dean?"
"Yes, he is. It ain't no good tellin' lies, lovey! He is Dean!"
"I thought there was a gardener here at the time of the murder called Martin?"
"There was," replied Mrs. Grix, coolly. "And he was queer, too, I tell you; but not as queer as this Martin. I knowed he was Dean as soon as I clapped eyes on him, though he was sorely altered from the 'andsome man he was."