“I thought she was still asleep. I opened the door very quietly, and just peeped in. She was lying on her side—she seemed asleep. The curtains were drawn, so naturally I could not see very clearly. I went away again, and it was not until lunch-time when I sent my daughter to see how she was feeling, that I had the least suspicion of what had happened. Even then I could not believe that she was dead. My son rang up the doctor immediately. It was he who broke the terrible news to us.”
“Thank you,” said Hannasyde. “Mr Matthews, were you at home this morning?”
“Yes,” replied Guy.
“All the morning?”
“Yes, I was working in this very room. Anything else I can tell you?”
“Nothing, thank you. I should like, however, to interview the housemaid who took up Miss Matthews' early tea.”
“All right, I'll ring for her,” said Guy, moving towards the bell.
“Perhaps,” said Hannasyde, “it would be possible for me to see her in some other room?”
Guy flushed. “Oh, certainly! See her anywhere you like!”
“I should very much prefer you to wait until you have proof that my sister-in-law was poisoned,” said Mrs Matthews stiffly. “All this is very upsetting to the servants, and we are already short-handed. Moreover, Mary cannot possibly tell you any more than we have, for she doesn't know anything.”