Street, an' me husban' has been dead these three years," declared she,
in a breath.

Stillman smiled.

"You don't believe in keeping anything back, Mrs. Dwyer, I can see
that," said he. "And a very good trait it is." He leaned back in his
swivel chair and looked at her through the glasses. "You are the
person who discovered the body of Mr. Hume, are you not?"

"Yes, sir, I were," replied Mrs. Dwyer; "and God spare me such another
sight."

"Tell us about it," said the coroner.

"I work as scrub woman for a good many in Christie Place an' the
immejeat neighborhood," said Mrs. Dwyer, genteelly. "But I always gets
to Mr. Hume's first."

"You are quite sure you found the street door locked?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you noticed nothing unusual about the place?"

"Only the open door to the store room, sir. Mr. Hume was always
particular about closing up, sir. For a man who was in the habit of
taking a sup of drink, sir, I'll say he was _very_ particular."

"When you noticed the door being open you went in at once, I suppose?"