was at the end of the corridor on the second floor--tendin' to a
little work. Then I saw Miss Edith come stealin' out of her room."

"You say she was 'stealing.' Describe how she came. Did she give the
impression of trying to go--unseen?"

"Yes. I don't think she wanted any one to see her. She went on tip-toe."

"Did she carry anything in her hands?"

"Yes. She had a black book, not big and not little either. She had it
under her arm. She crept along the hall, and a door opened to let her
in."

"What door was it?"

"The door of Mr. Nealman's suite--a little hall, with one door leading
into his chamber--the other to his study."

"Nealman opened the door for her, then?"

"Yes. I saw his sleeve as he closed it behind her."

The coroner's face grew stern, and he turned once more to Edith. To all
outward appearance she hadn't heard the testimony. She leaned easily in
her big chair, and her palm rested under her chin. Her eyes were shadowy
and far-away.

"How can you account for that, Miss Nealman?" Weldon asked.

"There's nothing I can say about it," was her quiet answer.

"You admit it's true, then?"

"I can't make Mrs. Gentry out a liar." It seemed to me that a dim smile
played at her lips; but it was a thing even closely watching eyes might
easily mistake. "It's perfectly true."

"Then why, Miss Nealman, did you tell us a few minutes ago you hadn't
seen Mr. Nealman since afternoon? That was a lie, was it not? I didn't
ask you to take formal oath when you gave me your testimony. I presumed
you'd stay by the truth. Why did you tell us what you did?"

"I didn't see any use in trying to explain. I didn't tell you--because
Mr. Nealman asked me not to."

A little shiver of expectancy passed over the court. "What do you mean?"

"Just that--he asked me to tell no one about my visit to the little
study adjoining his room. The whole thing was simply this--there's
certainly no good in withholding it any more. About eleven he rang for
me. There is a bell, you know, that connects that study with my room. I
answered it as I've always done. He asked me if I had a Bible--and I
told him I did. He asked me to get it for him, as quietly as possible.

"I got it--quietly as possible--just as he said. There was nothing very
peculiar about it--he often wants some book out of the library. I gave
him the book and he dismissed me, first asking me to tell no one, under
any conditions, that he had asked for it. I didn't know wh