ehaved just as I would have
done if I had had no hand in the murder. I even forbore to touch the key
or go to the spare room, or make any movement which I was not willing
all the world should see. For as things stood, there was not a shadow
of evidence against me in the house; neither was I, a hard-working,
uncomplaining secretary, whose passion for one of his employer's nieces
was not even mistrusted by the lady herself, a person to be suspected
of the crime which threw him out of a fair situation. So I performed
all the duties of my position, summoning the police, and going for Mr.
Veeley, just as I would have done if those hours between me leaving
Mr. Leavenworth for the first time and going down to breakfast in the
morning had been blotted from my consciousness.

And this was the principle upon which I based my action at the inquest.
Leaving that half-hour and its occurrences out of the question, I
resolved to answer such questions as might be put me as truthfully as
I could; the great fault with men situated as I was usually being that
they lied too much, thus committing themselves on unessential matters.
But alas, in thus planning for my own safety, I forgot one thing,
and that was the dangerous position in which I should thus place Mary
Leavenworth as the one benefited by the crime. Not till the inference
was drawn by a juror, from the amount of wine found in Mr. Leavenworth's
glass in the morning, that he had come to his death shortly after my
leaving him, did I realize what an opening I had made for suspicion in
her direction by admitting that I had heard a rustle on the stair a few
minutes after going up. That all present believed it to have been made
by Eleanore, did not reassure me. She was so completely disconnected
with the crime I could not imagine suspicion holding to her for an
instant. But Mary--If a curtain had been let down before me, pictured
with the future as it has since developed, I could not have seen more
plainly what her position would be, if attention were once directed
towards her. So, in the vain endeavor to cover up my blunder, I began
to lie. Forced to admit that a shadow of disagreement had been lately
visible between Mr. Leavenworth and one of his nieces, I threw the
burden of it upon Eleanore, as the one best able to bear it. The
consequences were more serious than I anticipated. Direction had been
given to suspicion which every additional evidence that now came up
seemed by some stra