"Ah, how do you do, gentlemen," greeted he. He was good-natured and
strove to be easy; but his natural nervousness clung to him. "I am
glad to see you."

He looked at Curran and nodded at the three inquiringly.

"Yes, sir," replied the clerk; "these are the parties."

"Then we will get down to business." He opened a door and entered an
inner room. "Will you come in?" he asked of Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton.

They followed him at once; and Curran, addressing the little
Irishwoman, said:

"Now, Mrs. Dwyer, this way, please."

She arose briskly and also entered the inner room. Stillman seated
himself at a desk and carefully perched his glasses upon his nose.

"I perhaps take more trouble than is customary in these cases," he
said to Ashton-Kirk. "It is usual to hear statements, I believe, only
when they are proffered as testimony at the inquest. But it seems to
me that the office should be carried on in a more thorough way.
Preparation, I think, is necessary to get at the facts."

Then he faced the woman who had taken a chair beside the desk.

"Your full name, please," said he.

"Honora Dwyer. I'm a widow with four children; I live at 71 Cormant