“Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. ” “But he recognized you,” the official objected. ” “If you tempt me too much,” she said, after a silence, “I shall do it. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. In the present case it did not matter, as there was no one else within earshot.
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