Jefferson’s angry flush returned.
“Now look here, Sheringham, that’s too much. I’ve told you things I never dreamed I’d have to tell anyone, and I’m not going to have you probing any farther into my business. That’s final.”
Roger rose to his feet. “I’m sorry you take it like that, Jefferson,” he said quietly. “You leave me no alternative.”
“What are you going to do then?”
“Tell the police the whole story.”
“Are you mad, Sheringham?” Jefferson burst out angrily.
“No, but I think you are, not to trust me,” Roger retorted, hardly less so. “You don’t think I want to tell them, do you? It’s you who are forcing me to do so.”
“What, through not telling you what—what I was doing that night?”
“Of course.”
There was a short pause, while the two glared at each other.