ndering deeply the while and
making notes every now and again, as fresh points occurred to him, and
asking her questions about the poor, weak-headed young man. Pressed as
to what she meant by calling the deceased "weak-headed," she replied
that some of her neighbors wrote him begging letters, though, Heaven
knew, they were better off than herself, who had to scrape her fingers
to the bone for every penny she earned. Under further pressure from Mr.
Talbot, who was watching the inquiry on behalf of Arthur Constant's
family, Mrs. Drabdump admitted that the deceased had behaved like a
human being, nor was there anything externally eccentric or queer in his
conduct. He was always cheerful and pleasant spoken, though certainly
soft--God rest his soul. No; he never shaved, but wore all the hair that
Heaven had given him.

By a Juryman: She thought deceased was in the habit of locking his door
when he went to bed. Of course, she couldn't say for certain.
(Laughter.) There was no need to bolt the door as well. The bolt slid
upward, and was at the top of the door. When she first let lodgings, her
reasons for which she seemed anxious to publish, there had only been a
bolt, but a suspicious lodger, she would not call him a gentleman, had
complained that he could not fasten his door behind him, and so she had
been put to the expense of having a lock made. The complaining lodger
went off soon after without paying his rent. (Laughter.) She had always
known he would.

The Coroner: Was deceased at all nervous?

Witness: No, he was a very nice gentleman. (A laugh.)

Coroner: I mean did he seem afraid of being robbed?

Witness: No, he was always goin' to demonstrations. (Laughter.) I told
him to be careful. I told him I lost a purse with 3s. 2d. myself on
Jubilee Day.

Mrs. Drabdump resumed her seat, weeping vaguely.

The Coroner: Gentlemen, we shall have an opportunity of viewing the room
shortly.

The story of the discovery of the body was retold, though more
scientifically, by Mr. George Grodman, whose unexpected resurgence into
the realm of his early exploits excited as keen a curiosity as the
reappearance "for this occasion only" of a retired prima donna. His
book, "Criminals I Have Caught," passed from the twenty-third to the
twenty-fourth edition merely on the strength of it. Mr. Grodman stated
that the body was still warm when he found it. He thought that death was
quite recent. The door he had had to burst was bolted as