"He lived at Kandahar Cottage, Woking," replied Miss Pett, who was now showing signs of rising anger. "But----" "Answer my questions, if you please, and don't make remarks," said Brereton. "Is Major Stilman alive?" "No, he isn't--he's dead this ten years," answered Miss Pett. "And if you're going to ask me any more questions about who and what I am, young man, I'll save you the trouble. I was with Major Stilman a many years, and before that I was store-keeper at one London hotel, and linen-keeper at another, and before that I lived at home with my father, who was a respectable farmer in Sussex. And what all this has to do with what we're here for, I should like----" "Just give me the names of the two hotels you were at in London, will you?" asked Brereton. "One was the _Royal Belvedere_ in Bayswater, and the other the _Mervyn Crescent_ in Kensington," replied Miss Pett. "Highly respectable, both of 'em." "And you come originally from--where in Sussex?" "Oakbarrow Farm, near Horsham. Do you want to know any----" "I shan't trouble you much longer," said Brereton suavely. "But you might just tell me this--has Mr. Kitely ever had any visitors since he came to Highmarket?" "Only one," answered Miss Pett. "And it was my nephew, who came up for a week-end to see him on business. Of course, I don't know what the business was. Mr. Kitely had property in London; house-property, and----" "And your nephew, as his solicitor, no doubt came to see him about it," interrupted Brereton. "Thank you, Miss Pett--I don't want to trouble you any more." He sat down as the housekeeper left the witness-box--confident that he had succeeded in introducing a new atmosphere into the case. Already there were whisperings going on in the crowded court; he felt that these country folk, always quick to form suspicions, were beginning to ask themselves if there was not something dark and sinister behind the mystery of Kitely's murder, and he was callous enough--from a purely professional standpoint--to care nothing if they began to form ideas about Miss Pett. For Brereton knew that nothing is so useful in the breaking-down of one prejudice as to set up another, and his great object just then was to divert primary prejudice away from his client. Nevertheless, nothing, he knew well, could at that stage prevent Harborough's ultimate committal--unless Harborough himself chose to prove the _alibi_ of which he had boasted. But Harborough refused to do anything towards that, and when the case had been adjourned for a week, and the prisoner removed to a cell pending his removal to Norcaster gaol, a visit from Brereton and Avice in company failed to move him. "It's no good, my girl; it's no good, sir," he said, when both had pleaded with him to speak. "I'm determined! I shall not say where I was last night." "Tell me--in secret--and then leave me to make use of the knowledge, also in secret," urged Brereton.