"Don't be afraid to speak," he said reassuringly. "What you have to say is not necessarily against Mr. Osborne's interests. Just state the facts simply—you did see him here on the murder night, didn't you?"
She muttered something, as a tear dropped on the ample bosom of her black dress.
"Just a little louder," Furneaux said.
"Yes," she sobbed, "I saw his back."
"You were—where?"
"Coming up the kitchen stairs to talk to Mr. Jenkins."
"Don't cry. And when you reached the top of the kitchen stairs you saw his back on the house stairs—at the bottom? at the top?"
"He was nearer the top. I only saw him a minute."
"A moment, you mean, I think. And in that one moment you became quite sure that it was Mr. Osborne? Though it was only his back you saw?"
"Yes, sir...."