And her eyes met the detective’s steadily, but he appeared in no wise discomfited.
“Time will show, Madame,” he said.
“Do you pretend that it was he who shot Prince Michael?” she asked presently.
“Certainly.”
But Virginia shook her head.
“Oh, no!” she said. “Oh, no! That is one thing I am quite sure of. Anthony Cade never killed Prince Michael.”
Lemoine was watching her intently.
“There is a possibility that you are right, Madame,” he said slowly. “A possibility, that is all. It may have been the Herzoslovakian, Boris, who exceeded his orders and fired that shot. Who knows, Prince Michael may have done him some great wrong, and the man sought revenge.”
“He looks a murderous sort of fellow,” agreed Lord Caterham. “The house-maids, I believe, scream when he passes them in the passages.”
“Well,” said Lemoine. “I must be going now. I felt it was due to you, my lord, to know exactly how things stand.”