"Were you great friends?"
"No," replied the old maid, bluntly, "we were not. Madame behaved in an extremely rude manner, and had she lived I should have given her notice. I never liked her," added Miss Bull, with feminine spite.
"You'll be all the more likely to speak the truth then," said Quex, cynically, and turned to examine the body.
Madame was still in the black-silk dress which she wore on the previous night. Seated at the round center-table, she had evidently been struck from behind, and killed before she had time to cry out. Her arms were on the table, and her head had fallen forward. The furniture of the room was not in disorder, the red table-cloth was not even ruffled. The murder had been committed without haste or noise, as Quex pointed out to Miss Bull.
"Whosoever murdered her must have been a friend," said he.
"It doesn't seem a friendly act to kill a defenseless woman," said Miss Bull, looking coldly on the limp figure.
"You don't quite understand. What I mean is that Mrs. Jersey knew the person who killed her."
Miss Bull shook her head. "I don't agree with you," she observed, and Quex was astonished that she should dare to contradict. "She was struck from behind, before she had time to turn her head."
"Quite so. But the assassin must have entered the room, and unless the deceased was deaf----"
"Madame had particularly sharp ears."