"It was three weeks today — the Friday before I killed 'im."
The day after Sorrell had received the little parcel at Mrs. Everett's. "All right. Go on.
"Well, I went 'ome and thought about it. I kept seeing 'is face. It had a bad grey kind of look in spite of its bein' so pleasant and all that. And I began to be sure that he meant to do Rosie in."
"Had your daughter been engaged to him?"
"Well, 'e said so. It was a boy-and-girl affair. They'd known each other ever since they were kids. Of course, Rosie wouldn't dream of marrying 'im now."
"All right. Go on."
"Well, I thought the only place 'e would be able to see 'er would be the theatre. You see, I went round specially to tell Rosie about it — I didn't see 'er very often — but she didn't seem to worry. She just said. 'Oh, Bert always talked through his hat anyway, and anyhow I don't see him any more. She 'ad such a lot of other things to think of, she wasn't worried. But I was, I tell you. I went that night and stood on the opposite side of the street, watching the people coming to the queues. But 'e didn't come. And I went to the matinee on Saturday and again in the evening, but 'e didn't come. And again on Monday night, and on Tuesday afternoon. And then on Tuesday night I saw 'im come alone, and I went and stood behind 'im in the queue at the pit door. After a while I saw a bulge in 'is right-'and coat pocket, and I felt it and it was hard. I was sure then that it was a revolver and that he was going to do Rosie in. So I just waited till the queue moved tight, like I said, and stuck the knife in 'im. He didn't make a sound. You'd think he didn't know anything had happened. And then I shoved in front, like I told you."
"Was Sorrell alone?"
"Yes."
"Who was standing alongside him?"