In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. “We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. It would be too mortifying. ” There was a shout of laughter. “No, I administered poisons to you according to the ancient tradition. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. “Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right.
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