“Very well, doctor,” she said submissively. “But first, Mr. Maynard, this is our family physician, Dr. Hayden,” and as the two men silently shook hands, she added as she moved toward the door leading into her step-father’s bedroom, “I’ll be back shortly.”
Hayden’s surmise that Penfield had arrived proved correct, and the coroner, listening attentively to Mrs. Ward’s jumbled remarks as he mounted the staircase, went at once into the library and greeted Hayden.
“Apoplexy, Hayden?” he inquired, going toward the fireplace. “Ah, your aid here——” and Hayden joined him.
Maynard stood an interested spectator by the door, uncertain whether he was expected to go or stay, but as neither physician paid the slightest attention to him, he decided to remain. A sudden movement of the coroner’s toward the windows caused him to step forward and pull the inside Holland shades up to the top. A grunt of approval from Penfield greeted the additional light and Maynard decided to tuck back with the aid of chairs the heavy brocaded curtains which, like the portières, were covered with cretonne to protect them in the summer months, until the large room was filled with the remaining daylight.
The room, wainscoted in Flemish oak with open beams across the high ceiling, was never very bright as its massive furnishings were somber in shade and absorbed the light. It was a very livable room, however, and had the air of being much occupied even with most of its bric-a-bric put away for the summer. The high-backed carved oak chairs and great leather covered lounges all looked comfortable, and the large center table, smoking stands, and card tables gave an added air of hospitality.
Suddenly Coroner Penfield rose from his knees beside the dead man and laid down several instruments on the chess table. He then glanced narrowly up and down the room, his glance resting finally on Dan Maynard, of whose presence he had been until then apparently unaware.
“I must make some inquiries, Hayden,” he said. “Who is this gentleman?”
“Mr. Maynard—I beg your pardon,” Hayden straightened up and faced about. “Didn’t I introduce you?” he added as the actor approached. “Mr. Maynard only arrived here a few minutes before you, Penfield. I’ll call Mrs. Ward, the housekeeper.”
“She doesn’t know anything,” declared Evelyn who, entering unperceived a few minutes before, had overheard the coroner’s request. “I came back to tell you all about everything.”
“Do you feel equal to it?” asked Hayden, pushing forward a chair. “Hadn’t you better wait, Evelyn? You have been under a fearful strain to have your friend die——” He paused in his rapid speech as if at a loss for words and Maynard, with intuitive quickness, detected the physician’s disquietude under his calm professional manner. “—your friend die so suddenly,” Hayden finished.