Anthony made a non-committal growling sound, but said nothing. Roger began to pace the little room with restless steps.
“Dash that infernal letter!” he burst out a few minutes later. “There’s no doubt that it does complicate matters most awkwardly. Though it doesn’t rule out my bright solution of before lunch by any means. The inspector ought to have seen that. What she was doing with friend Colin doesn’t affect in the slightest degree the bad blood between her and Mrs. Russell. We mustn’t get confused by issues that lie outside the main chance.”
There was another pause.
“I must see Margaret!” Roger announced suddenly, stopping short in his stride. “You muttered something this morning about having arranged a meeting. For when?”
“Well, we didn’t actually arrange anything,” Anthony replied with preternatural innocence. “She happened to say that she’d probably be going out to that ledge this afternoon about three o’clock with a book, and I just mentioned that⸺”
“Cease your puling!” Roger interrupted rudely. “It’s a quarter to three now. Get your hat and come along.”
Five minutes later they were walking briskly up the rise from the road to the top of the cliffs, the wind blowing coolly about their heads. It is perhaps not uninteresting to note in passing that Anthony wore a hat and Roger did not. And one might go on to add at the same time that Anthony’s grey flannel trousers were faultlessly creased, while in Roger’s not a vestige of a crease could be seen. From this sort of thing the keen psychologist draws any number of interesting deductions.
“I say, you don’t mind me coming along, Anthony, do you?” Roger was asking with an appearance of great anxiety.
“Of course I don’t. Why should I?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Isn’t there some old saying about the difference between a couple and a trio in connection with company? I mean⸺”