“That’s turning the tables; usually Cousin Susan talked about everybody,” Potter remarked, breaking a slight pause. “Why hasn’t Kitty telephoned us? I am now her nearest living relative.”
“She may have tried to reach us,” suggested his wife. “I don’t suppose Moto answered the telephone in my absence; he hates it. Did you hear it ring, Ben?”
“No,” shortly. “I can’t say I grieve over your news, Ted. I have always resented Cousin Susan’s treatment of Kitty. Made the girl slave for her, the venomous old scandal-monger.”
“Ben!” Nina’s shocked tone caused her husband to pause in his rapid speech. “Did you hear, Mr. Rodgers, the cause of Cousin Susan’s death?”
“Bit her tongue and died from blood-poisoning,” growled Potter, before Rodgers could answer.
“Ben!”
“Well, all right, dear; I’ll say no more. But,” in self-defense, noting Rodgers’ surprise, “I’ve had no cause to love Cousin Susan— I heard her caustic remarks about my marriage. Never mind that now,” with a quick glance at his wife. “Go ahead, Ted, tell us of what Cousin Susan died.”
“The coroner will have to answer that question, Ben.”
“The coroner!” Potter rose to his feet and stared at his guest. “What d’ye mean? Oh, hurry your speech, man; don’t keep us in suspense,” as Rodgers hesitated and eyed Mrs. Potter in some trepidation. Judging from her sudden loss of color, she was about to faint.