"No, it didn't. Sometimes he'd go out very early--sometimes late--some days he never went out at all. And sometimes he'd be out at night--and away for days together. I never asked him anything, of course." "Whatever it was, he retired from it eventually?" "Yes--just before we came here." "Do you know why Mr. Kitely came here?" "Well," said Miss Pett, "he'd always said he wanted a nice little place in the country, and preferably in the North. He came up this way for a holiday some months since, and when he got back he said he'd found just the house and neighbourhood to suit him, so, of course, we removed here." "And you have been here--how long?" "Just over three months." Brereton let a moment or two elapse before he asked his next question, which was accompanied by another searching inspection of the witness. "Do you know anything about Mr. Kitely's relations?" "No!" answered Miss Pett. "And for a simple reason. He always said he had none." "He was never visited by anybody claiming to be a relation?" "Not during the ten years I knew him." "Do you think he had property--money--to leave to anybody?" Miss Pett began to toy with the fur boa which depended from her thin neck. "Well--yes, he said he had," she replied hesitatingly. "Did you ever hear him say what would become of it at his death?" Miss Pett looked round the court and smiled a little. "Well," she answered, still more hesitatingly, "he--he always said that as he'd no relations of his own, he'd leave it to me." Brereton leaned a little closer across the table towards the witness-box and dropped his voice. "Do you know if Mr. Kitely ever made a will?" he asked. "Yes," replied Miss Pett. "He did." "When?" "Just before we left London." "Do you know the contents of that will?" "No!" said Miss Pett. "I do not--so there!" "Did you witness it?" "No, I didn't." "Do you know where it is?" "Yes, I know that." "Where is it?" "My nephew has it," replied Miss Pett. "He's a solicitor, and he made it." "What is your nephew's name and address?" asked Brereton. "Mr. Christopher Pett, 23B Cursitor Street," answered Miss Pett, readily enough. "Have you let him know of Mr. Kitely's death?" "Yes. I sent him a telegram first thing this morning." "Asking him to bring the will?" "No, I did not!" exclaimed Miss Pett, indignantly. "I never mentioned the will. Mr. Kitely was very fond of my nephew--he considered him a very clever young man." "We shall, no doubt, have the pleasure of seeing your nephew," remarked Brereton. "Well, now, I want to ask you a question or two about yourself. What had you been before you became housekeeper to Mr. Kitely?" "Housekeeper to another gentleman!" replied Miss Pett, acidly. "Who was he?" "Well, if you want to know, he was a Major Stilman, a retired officer--though what that has----" "Where did Major Stilman live?" asked Brereton.