The Coroner made a note in his book, closed it with an air of finality, and put it in his pocket.
During the brief interview, the detective had been making an examination of the room. The floor had been recently scrubbed, and was still damp in the corners. He gave the clean, pine boards a close scrutiny, then paused before the window. The bottom of the lower sash had been broken, and several of the small, square panes were missing.
"So this is where you killed Crown, eh?" he announced.
The words fell into the silence and were absorbed by it, causing them to seem theatrical and unconvincing. Neither Porgy nor Bess spoke. Their faces were blank and noncommittal.
After a full moment, the woman said:
"I ain't onduhstan', Boss. Nobody hyuh ain't kill Crown. My husban' he fall t'rough dat winduh yisterday when he leg gib 'way. He er cripple."
"Anyone see him do it?" enquired the Coroner from the door.
"Oh, yes, Boss," replied Bess, turning to him. "T'ree or four ob de mens was in de street; dey will tell yuh all 'bout um."
"Yes, of course; more witnesses," sneered the detective. Then turning to the Coroner,
