"I suppose you put Chandler off -- that's what you did! Why, whatever did he come here for, excepting to tell us all about it ?" "He came to have something to eat and drink," snapped out Mrs.
Bunting.

"That's what the poor lad came for, if you wants to know.
He could hardly speak of it at all--he felt so bad.

In fact, he didn't say a word about it until he'd come right into the room and sat down.

He told me quite enough!" "Didn't he tell you if the piece of paper on which the murderer had written his name was square or three-cornered ?" demanded Bunting.
"No; he did not.

And that isn't the sort of thing I should have cared to ask him." "The more fool you!" And then he stopped abruptly.