‘I am sir,’ returned the woman, ‘and would you come in?’ ‘Thank you.’ He followed her into the small, poorly-furnished living room, and sat cautiously down on the somewhat dilapidated chair she pulled forward. ‘You know, I suppose,’ he went on, ‘that your neighbour, Mr. Felix of St. Malo, has been arrested on a very serious charge?’ ‘’Deed then, I do, sir. And sorry I was to hear of it. A fine, decent man he was, too.’ ‘Well, Mrs. Murphy, my name is Clifford, and I am the lawyer who is going to defend Mr. Felix. I wondered if you would be good enough to answer some questions, to help me in his defence?’ ‘I would, sir, be glad to do it.’ ‘You managed the house for him recently, while his housekeeper was away?’ ‘I did, sir.’ ‘And when did Mr. Felix ask you to do that?’ ‘On Sunday evening, sir. I was just thinking of going to bed when he came to the door.’ ‘Now tell me, please, exactly what you did each day at St. Malo.’ ‘I went in the mornings, sir, and lit the fire and got his breakfast. Then I did out his room and washed up and left his lunch ready. He got his own lunch himself in the middle of the day, and went into London for dinner at night.’ ‘I see. At what hour did you reach the house in the mornings?’ ‘About seven o’clock. I called him at half-past seven and he had breakfast at eight.’ ‘And about what hour did you leave?’ ‘I could hardly be sure, sir. About half-past ten or eleven, or maybe later.’ ‘Can you remember the Wednesday of that week? I suppose you were at St. Malo at ten o’clock?’ ‘I was, sir. I was never left by ten any morning.’ ‘Quite so. Now what I want to know is this: on that Wednesday morning was Mr. Felix in the house at ten o’clock?’ ‘So far as I know, he was, sir.’ ‘Ah, but I want to be sure. Can you say positively he was there?’ ‘Well, not to be certain, sir, I couldn’t.’ ‘Now Thursday, Mrs. Murphy. Did you see Mr. Felix on Thursday?’ The woman hesitated. ‘I saw him two or three mornings,’ she said at last, ‘but I couldn’t be sure whether it was on Thursday. It might have been, though.’ ‘You couldn’t tell me at what hour he took his breakfast that morning?’ ‘Well, I could not, sir.’ It was evident to Clifford that Mrs. Murphy, though an intelligent woman, would be no use to him as a witness. He remained at her house for a considerable time, and was very probing and painstaking in his questions. But all to no purpose. While she corroborated what Felix had stated about his household arrangements, she dashed any hope the lawyer might have had of establishing an alibi. By the time he again reached the city it was one o’clock. He decided he would lunch at the Gresham, and pursue his investigations among the staff.