"Until she found he was rich and could leave her five thousand a year," said Hurd, absently; "so like a woman."
"You seem to know all about it, mister?" said the sailor, uneasily.
"Yes, I read the papers. A queer case that of Norman's death. I expect it was only right he should be strangled seeing he killed Lady Rachel Sandal in the same way."
Jessop, resting his hands on the arms of his chair, pushed it back and stared with a white face. "You know of that?" he gasped.
"Why not? It was public talk in this place over twenty years ago. I understand you have been here-abouts for thirty years," went on Hurd, carelessly, "possibly you may recollect the case."
Jessop wiped his forehead. "I heard something about it. That there lady committed suicide they say."
"I know what they say, but I want to know what you say?"
"I won't be arsked questions," shouted the captain, angrily.
"Don't raise your voice," said the detective, smoothly; "we may as well conduct this conversation pleasantly."