"I can't hear half you say," that official said irritably. "I think you said your name was John Stevens. What can you tell us about this case? Did you know Mr. Delahay?"
"I knew him quite well, sir," the witness said. "I have seen him scores of times when I have been watching in Fitzjohn Square."
"What do you mean by watching there?"
"Well, sir, you see, I am a private inquiry agent. I work for one of the large firms of detectives, getting up evidence and that kind of thing. For months past it has been my duty to keep my eye on a certain house in the Square, especially at night. In that way I have got to know most of the inhabitants by sight, and also I have got to know a good deal about their habits."
"You are a professional spy, then?" the coroner asked.
"Well, sir, if you like to put it like that," the witness said humbly. "On the night of the murder about a quarter past one, I was in the Square gardens watching through the railings at the corner of John Street. I could see perfectly well what was going on because there is a large electric arc light where John Street and the Square adjoin. As I said, it was just about a quarter past one, because I looked at my watch to see what the time was. It was nearly time for me to leave, as my instructions----"
The witness broke off abruptly, and glanced about the room with the air of a man who has recognised an acquaintance whom he had not expected to see. His rambling attentions were recalled by the coroner in a few sharp words.
"I am sure I beg your pardon. As I said, I was waiting there till my time was up, and I saw Mr. Delahay come round the corner. He stood there just a moment. As far as I could gather he seemed to be troubled about something. I was too far off to hear what he was saying, but it seemed to me----"
"What are you talking about?" the coroner interrupted. "Do you mean to say that Mr. Delahay was talking to himself?"
"Oh, dear no, sir; he was talking to his companion."