His eyes sought hers and met them fully and squarely.
“Oh!” she exclaimed sadly. “Jos had a dreadful night. He does have them sometimes, you know. Bad dreams. In many ways he is just like a child. There are nights when I think his dreams are more real to him than his real life. Now, last night he dreamed there was a corpse lying on a bier in the avenue, and nothing would satisfy him but that I should come out with him to see. Fancy it! at my age! However, there was nothing—of course.”
Carpentaria said to himself that the old lady evidently was unaware of her son’s midnight escapade, and that he could get no further with her. The hope sprang up within him that Polly had been after all mistaken. Juliette might have gone out merely for a stroll and have returned ere then. He rose to take leave of Mrs. Ilam.
“What are you going to do?” she asked him.
“What about?”
“Well, my dear man, about this attempted poisoning.”
“I suppose we must inform the police,” he replied.
“Yes, I suppose so,” she agreed. “But perhaps it would be well to wait until you had had a talk with Jos. He’ll be getting up during the day.”
“We’ll see,” said Carpentaria.
“It’s a good thing it’s Sunday and we’re free, isn’t it?” she remarked.