"I've already told you I heard nothing." The old lady's denial was viciously emphatic.
"Nor any one walking in the hall, or descending the stairs?"
"No one but that incompetent doctor and the impossible Sproot. Were we supposed to have had visitors this morning?"
"Some one shot your son," Markham reminded her coolly.
"It was probably his own fault," she snapped. Then she seemed to relent a bit. "Still, Rex was not as hard and thoughtless as the rest of the children. But even he neglected me shamefully." She appeared to weigh the matter. "Yes," she decided, "he received just punishment for the way he treated me."
Markham struggled with a hot resentment. At last he managed to ask, with apparent calmness:
"Did you hear the shot with which your son was punished?"
"I did not." Her tone was again irate. "I knew nothing of the disturbance until the doctor saw fit to tell me."
"And yet Mr. Rex's door, as well as yours, was open," said Markham. "I can hardly understand your not having heard the shot."
The old lady gave him a look of scathing irony.
"Am I to sympathize with your lack of understanding?"
"Lest you be tempted to, madam, I shall leave you." Markham bowed stiffly and turned on his heel.
As we reached the lower hall Doctor Doremus arrived.
