“You didn’t see him again?”
“No, no; I do not see him again evair.”
“When did you last see Mrs. Bellamy?”
“It is about eight in the evening—maybe five minute before, maybe five minute after.”
“How do you fix the time?”
“I have look at my watch—this watch you now see, which is a good instrument of entirely pure silver, but not always faithful.”
The prosecutor waved away the bulky shining object dangled enticingly before his eyes with a gesture of almost ferocious impatience. “Never mind about that. Why did you consult your watch?”
The owner of the magnificent but unfaithful instrument swelled darkly for a moment, but continued to dangle his treasure. “That you shall hear—patience. I produce the instrument at this time so that you note that while the clock over the door it say twenty minutes before the hour, this watch it say nine minute—or maybe eight. You judge for yourself. It is without a doubt eccentric. But on that night still I have consult it to see if I go to New York at eight-twenty. I wait to decide still when I see Mrs. Bell’my run down the front steps and come down to the gate where I stand.”
“Did she speak to you?”
“Oh, positive. She ask, ‘What, Luigi, you do not go to New York?’ ”