"I heard voices—or to be more correct, I heard a voice. The father did all the talking as far as I could hear; but, as I have said, I was interested in my book."
"You don't recall any scraps of talk—a detached phrase?—anything?"
The nurse shook her head.
"The only clear impression I have is of the man's laugh; there was something irritating about it, and I wished he'd stop."
"When the younger Mr. Burton came home—what then?"
"The voices rose suddenly; but the two doors were closed and I could only catch a word here and there. But I did hear young Mr. Burton call his father a rascal and order him to leave the house. Just about then I thought of the maid and went back to the kitchen to tell her she might go to bed. But she had already gone. There were a few things I had to do in the kitchen and I remained there until I had finished them. Then I came back here."
"Well?"
"They were still talking in the sitting-room—rather loudly, I thought."
"Did you hear any sound like a struggle?"
The maid stood with her rather thin lips pressed tightly together for a moment; then she said, reluctantly: