There was another little silence.
“Well, I’m quite sure he knows nothing about it,” Roger burst out.
The inspector bestowed a surreptitious grin on a small rambling rose. “Are you, sir?” he said. Mr. Roger Sheringham was perhaps not the only psychologist walking down the drive of Clouston Hall at that moment.
“Aren’t you, Inspector?” Roger demanded point-blank.
“Um!” replied the inspector carefully.
“If he does, he’s a better actor than ever I’ve met before,” said Roger.
“I was watching him closely, and I’m convinced his surprise was genuine,” said Roger.
“He certainly believed her death had been accidental,” said Roger.
“I’ll stake my life he knows nothing about it,” said Roger defiantly.
“Will you, sir?” queried the inspector blandly. “Well, well!”