The slight emphasis on the verb did not escape the inspector.
“Or hear anything?” he demanded sharply. “Be very careful please, Miss Hoyle.”
“I heard him speak to some one outside very soon after I had gone back to my office, and I heard him moving about his room after I came from lunch,” Cecily said, her colour rising a little.
The inspector looked at her searchingly. “To whom did you hear Mr. Bechcombe speak?”
Cecily hesitated, the colour that was creeping back slowly into her cheeks deepening perceptibly.
“Someone was knocking at the door,” she stammered. “I think Mr. Bechcombe spoke to him. I heard him say he was engaged.”
“Who was he speaking to?”
The girl twisted her hands together.
“It was his nephew, Mr. Anthony Collyer.”
“How do you know?” The inspector fired his questions at her rather as if they had been pistol shots.