"The doctor would
know that better. No, he was not neurotic, I think."
"Did you ever see Mr. Phelps take any drugs--not habitually, but
just before this sleep came on?"
Kennedy was seeking his information in a manner and tone that
would cause as little offence as possible "Oh, no," she hastened.
"No, never--absolutely."
"You called in Dr. Forden the last night?"
"Yes, he had been Montague's physician many years ago, you know."
"I see," remarked Kennedy, who was thrusting about aimlessly to
get her off her guard. "By the way, you know there is a great deal
of gossip about the almost perfect state of preservation of the
body, Mrs. Phelps. I see it was not embalmed."
She bit her lip and looked at Kennedy sharply.
"Why, why do you and Mr. Andrews worry me? Can't you see Doctor
Forden?"
In her annoyance I fancied that there was a surprising lack of
sorrow. She seemed preoccupied. I could not escape the feeling
that she was putting some obstacle in our way, or that from the
day of the discovery of the vandalism, some one had been making an
effort to keep the real facts concealed.
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