"Yes, I know."
"She says she heard the clock of Saint Michael's Church strike three when she was in the Square."
"She is mistaken. She might easily be, alarmed as she was for the safety of her husband."
He had fallen into the trap. Here was a man who had stated that I was the first visitor he had had this week, and that he had not seen a newspaper, acknowledging in his last replies to me that he was acquainted with the evidence Mrs. Death had given in the Coroner's Court yesterday. If it occurred to him that he had contradicted himself he did not gather from me that I was aware of it. I rose to go, and kept my face to him.
"I will wish you good night, doctor," I said, and then I lingered. "By the way, might I see that clever little device of yours for throwing light to a distance?"
"I am sorry I cannot show it to you," he replied. "It is being repaired. Good night."
He was anxious to be rid of me, but I still lingered.
"It is from the back windows of your house, doctor, that you can see into Catchpole Square?"
"Yes," he replied, and his voice was not cordial; but that I judge it seldom is. I mean, that it was more guarded.
"Would you mind showing me the window you looked out of when you saw Mr. Reginald Boyd?"