"Were you present at the time of the robbery?" pursued Jonathan. ” She spoke with a certain asperity. "Thanks. . “Yes,” she answered, looking away. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. It was clear by the look on her face that she decided to leave the house immediately.
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