"You lived with Mr. Kitely at 83, Acacia Grove, Camberwell, from the time you became his housekeeper until now—nearly ten years in all. So we may take it that you knew Mr. Kitely very well indeed?"
"As well as anybody could know—him," replied Miss Pett, grimly. "He wasn't the sort that's easy to know."
"Still, you knew him for ten years. Now," continued Brereton, concentrating his gaze on Miss Pett's curious features, "who and what was Mr. Kitely?"
Miss Pett drummed her black-gloved fingers on the edge of the witness-box and shook her head.
"I don't know," she answered. "I never have known."
"But you must have some idea, some notion—after ten years' acquaintanceship! Come now. What did he do with himself in London? Had he no business?"
"He had business," said Miss Pett. "He was out most of the day at it. I don't know what it was."
"Never mentioned it to you?"
"Never in his life."
"Did you gain no idea of it? For instance, did it take him out at regular hours?"