Carolyn Wells

“ It was that little French minx, Marie, who is everlastingly spying about! Well, she is not to be believed."
"I am sorry to doubt your own statement, Miss Morton, but another member of the household also saw you. Denial is useless; it would be better for you to tell us simply why you went to Miss Van Norman's room at that time."
"It's nobody's business," snapped Miss Morton. ”

“ Mr. Fessenden was there, but no other guest. After dinner we all sat in the music room. I played a little,—just some snatches of certain music that Mrs. Carleton is fond of. Mr. Carleton and Mr. Fessenden chatted together."
Rob raised his own eyebrows a trifle at this. Carleton had not been at all chatty; indeed, Fessenden and Mrs. Carleton had sustained the burden of the conversation; and while Miss Burt had played, it had been bits of romantic music that Rob felt sure had been for Schuyler's delectation more than his mother's. ”

“ Perhaps I had better tell you, a witness has already told of your stopping on the way to your own room."
"She told falsely, then. I went straight to my bedroom."
"In the third story?"
"Yes."
Coroner Benson was a patient man. He had no wish to confound Miss Morton with Marie's evidence, and too, there was a chance that Marie had not told the truth. So he spoke again persuasively:
"You went there afterward, but first you stopped for a moment or two in Miss Van Norman's sitting-room." ”