“At what time did they finish dinner?”
“About twenty minutes past eight, sir. The hall clock was striking the half hour as I carried the coffee into the library. Mrs. Trevor was there, and she told me that Miss Beatrice had gone upstairs to dress, so I left her cup on the table, sir.”
“At what time did you go to bed?”
“I went up a few minutes after ten o’clock, sir. All the other servants had gone upstairs before me.”
“Was that their usual hour for retiring?”
“No, sir. You see, sir, Mrs. Trevor gave a very large supper party for Madame Bernhardt on Tuesday night. The guests didn’t leave until nearly four o’clock Wednesday morning. We were all dead tired from the extra work and no sleep, so Mrs. Trevor told me in the library that night, sir, that I was to tell the others to go to bed as soon as their work was done, and that I needn’t wait up, nor her maid either, as she would undress herself.”
“Was that the last time you saw Mrs. Trevor alive?”
“Yes, sir; the last time I saw her.”
There was a peculiar inflection in Wilkins’ usually quiet monotone that caught the coroner’s attention.
“What do you mean, Wilkins?”