Mrs. Parsons smiled ironically. "Take a chair by all means; that one by the door looks substantial. Now," as he dragged it over and placed it directly in front of her. "I will repeat my question--why do you wish to see me?" "You ask that--and a newspaper by your side!" Potter pointed contemptuously at the paper lying on the floor. "Have you seen Kitty Baird since the inquest?" Mrs. Parsons shook her head. "There was hardly time for her to get here; besides she must be very weary, not to say--unstrung." She held out her cigarette case, but Potter waved it away, making no effort politely to restrain his impatience. "So dear Miss Susan Baird was poisoned after all." "And why 'after all'?" swiftly. "Why '_dear_ Miss Susan'?" A shrug of her shapely shoulders answered him. "You are always so intense, Ben," she remarked. "Why _not_ 'dear Miss Susan'? Had you any reason to dislike your cousin?" "Had any one any reason to like her?" he asked gruffly. "You don't need to be told that." His smile had little mirth in it. "The poor soul is dead--murdered." He looked at her queerly. "How much does Kitty see of Major Leigh Wallace?" Mrs. Parsons selected another cigarette with care. "So that is the reason I am honored by a visit from you." Tossing back her head, she inspected him from head to foot. "How am I qualified to answer your question? I am not Kitty's guardian." "No, but you are her employer," with quiet emphasis. "And Major Wallace is a frequent caller here." "Is he?" Her smile was enigmatical. "May I ask the reason of your sudden interest in Major Wallace?" Potter colored hotly. "That is my affair," he retorted. "Were you at the Baird inquest this morning?" "No." "Have you read the newspaper account of it?" "Yes." "And what is your opinion?" She shook her head. "I have formed none." "Oh, come!" Potter smiled skeptically, then frowned. "Kitty must be safeguarded," he announced with gruff abruptness. "From Major Wallace?--" "Perhaps--" She considered him a moment in silence. Potter's big frame did not show to best advantage in his sack suit which betrayed the need of sponging and pressing. The naturalist seldom gave a thought to his personal appearance. "How is your wife?" she asked. Potter started a trifle at the abrupt question. "Quite well," he replied. "But a bit fagged after the inquest. She was one of the witnesses, you know." "And you--" "I was not called by the coroner," shortly. "Ted Rodgers and I sat together in the court room. He's a good chap, Ted--promised Kitty to help trace her aunt's murderer." The pupils of Mrs. Parsons' eyes contracted. "I did not realize that they were on such terms of intimacy," she remarked, and her voice had grown sharper. "Do you think Mr. Rodgers will have a difficult task?" Potter ran his fingers through his untidy grey hair. "That remains to be seen," he replied. "So far, all that we know is that my cousin, Miss Susan Baird, was poisoned with prussic acid."