"Mrs. Jason, did you notice Callista Blake talking with anyone but the children that afternoon?" "When she was leaving, I saw Dr. Chalmers standing by her car talking with her, and the children ran over to say good-bye." "No one else?" Mrs. Jason shrugged. "Everything informal--acquaintances of long standing, no occasion for formal gestures." "How was Miss Blake dressed that day?" "Brown skirt, green blouse, very nice with her color." "Did you notice a shoulder-strap bag?" "Yes." "Were you aware of any constraint, or hostility, between Callista Blake and any of the guests at that picnic?" "Conclusions of the witness." Mann said: "I'll rule it admissible. But limit yourself to the single question, Mrs. Jason." "The answer is no, I wasn't aware of any such thing." "Early this year, before the first of May, did you learn--by direct observation--of anything unusual about the relation existing between Callista Blake and James Doherty?" "Objection! Leading the witness. No relevance established." "The relevance is direct, to the question of motive." "Objection overruled." "Exception." "Shall I repeat my question, Mrs. Jason?" "You needn't. The answer is no." "What about after the first of May?" "I learned on the 12th of May that there was a love affair between Callista Blake and Jim Doherty." Her brusque answer, shoving aside legal caution, came on a note of regret that Mann thought could not be false. Her mind precise, somewhat fanatic, Mrs. Jason would be a truth-teller at any cost. Never knowingly unjust according to her own standards, she might wish to temper duty with kindness, but her habits of self-rule would not allow much of that. "Shall I tell of this in my own words?" "Yes, please." "Very early on the morning of May 12th, about two o'clock, I was walking up Summer Avenue toward the junction with Walton Road. I take walks at night sometimes, to observe the activities of wild things, also because I sleep poorly. A short walk is sometimes helpful. I knew Mrs. Doherty was away for a visit of a few days with her parents in Philadelphia, by the way. As I walked down the road toward the Doherty house there were no lights in it. I was wearing tennis shoes, walking quietly. Near the Dohertys' driveway I heard the voices of Jim Doherty and Callista, both very individual voices and of course familiar to me. They were standing together in the drive. Jim's car was there, pointed toward the road. Moonlight--I was partly hidden by roadside bushes--I'm sure they didn't see or hear me. As I was about to retreat, they sat down on the grass near the car and were then turned more toward me, would almost certainly have seen me if I had moved. The--the situation was such that I could not let them know I was there--too painful for all three of us." "But I must now ask what if anything you saw or overheard."