“But your last entry was made shortly after midnight,” pointed out Sheriff Trenholm, picking up the chart from the table at his elbow. “Why was that, Miss Ward?”
“I was interrupted by the arrival of Miss Carter,” she replied, and the unexpected answer brought a startled exclamation from three of her companions; then their gaze left the nurse and centered on Betty. The latter raised her eyes and regarded the trained nurse. If chiseled from marble, her white face could not have been more devoid of human expression.
“God bless my soul!” ejaculated Doctor Roberts. “What were you doing here, Betty?”
The girl paid not the slightest attention to him; instead she addressed Miriam, and the others were startled at her tone.
“Go on with your story,” she said. “Speak quickly,” with a glance at her wrist watch. “Time is passing.”
“Miss Carter was accompanied by a clergyman.” Miriam spoke more slowly, weighing her words. “I—I”—she hesitated for a brief moment—“I cannot recall his name—”
“Continue,” directed Dixon, as she paused. “Did Miss Carter and her companion see Mr. Abbott?”
“I think they did;” she hesitated. “I feel sure they did—”
“Why are you in doubt about it?” demanded Trenholm quickly. “Weren’t you in the room with them?”
Miriam shook her head. “Not all the time,” she admitted. “The clergyman sent me downstairs to get a lamp as the one in this room had burned out. When I came back—”