“Then while with Mr. Porter you were cut off by a solid wall from all communication with your other patient?” questioned the coroner, intently studying a rough sketch of the interior of the house which he held in his hand.
“Not entirely,” explained Vera quickly. “There is a transom between the two rooms which remains open, and I would have heard instantly if Mr. Brainard had called me.”
“Did he call you?” asked the coroner eagerly, and his face fell at her monosyllabic “No.”
“Did you hear any noise in Mr. Brainard’s bedroom during the night?” he began, after a pause.
“Not a sound, sir.”
“Did you go in to see how he was during the night?”
“Yes, once, about half past one. Judging from his regular breathing that Mr. Brainard was sleeping I tiptoed out of the room without approaching his bed, and resumed my watch in the next room.”
“Was there any light in Mr. Brainard’s room?”
“Yes, I placed a night light on the bed-stand.”
“Did the candle give sufficient light for you to see Mr. Brainard’s position in bed?” questioned Coroner Black.