“Did you come back to Cornwall for that purpose?” asked the detective, shooting another puzzled glance at him.
“I came back to try and discover the truth.”
“About what?”
“About my uncle’s death.”
“And have you discovered it?”
“I have.”
Barrant did not understand the young man’s attitude, or the tone of heartfelt relief in which he uttered these words, but he felt that the conversation in its present form had gone far enough.
“Do you propose to tell me the truth?” he asked, with a slight cynical emphasis on the last word.
“I do.”
Barrant’s surprise kept him silent for a moment, but when he spoke he was very incisive—