“Please yourself,” said Mrs. Coppersley, with an air of indifference, “all I know is, that I’m glad I didn’t discover Jabez in his gore on that night and at that hour. If I had, you’d be holding an inquest on me.
“Possibly. If the assassin was in the study when you passed through the hall, Mrs. Coppersley.”
“Ugh,” shivered the witness, “and that’s just where he was, depend upon it, sir, getting through the window, when he’d dropped the knife behind the desk. Oh, what an escape I’ve had,” wept Mrs. Coppersley.
“There, there, don’t bellow,” said the Coroner, testily, “get down and let the witness, Luke Tunks, be called.”
The Bleacres handy-man had very little to say, but gave his evidence in a straightforward manner. He had left the house with Mrs. Coppersley at seven and had gone straig
