“You did see somebody enter the lavatory?”
“Yes.”
“Whom did you see?”
There was a moment’s breathless silence, during which Patience wondered if a clock had ever ticked so loudly, or if the sun had ever shone with so vicious a glare.
“Whom did you see?” repeated the district attorney.
“The prisoner.”
“What did she do?”
“She dropped some thirty or forty drops of morphine, I should say, then half filled the glass with water, as usual.”
“You did not see the deceased go to the lavatory that night.”
“No.”