"My daughter Barbara's vagaries I seldom take seriously."
"Was Mr. Turnbull a frequent visitor at your house?"
"Oh, yes."
"Was he engaged to your daughter Helen?"
"No." McIntyre's denial was prompt and firmly spoken. Penfield
and Kent, from his new seat nearer the platform, watched the
colonel narrowly, but learned nothing from his expression.
"I have heard otherwise," observed the coroner dryly.
"You have been misinformed," McIntyre's manner was short. "I
would suggest, Mr. Coroner, that you confine your questions and
conjectures to matters pertinent to this inquiry."
Penfield flushed as one of the jurors snickered, but he did not
repeat his previous question, asking instead, "Was there good
feeling between you and Mr. Turnbull?"
"I never quarreled with him," replied McIntyre. "I really saw
little of him as, whenever he called at the house, he came to see
one or the other of my daughters, or both."
"When did you last see Mr. Turnbull?" inquired Penfield.
"He was at the house on Sunday and I had quite a talk with him,"
McIntyre leaned back in his chair and regarded the neat crease in
his trousers with critical eyes.
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