“Ah!” said, Mr Windgate triumphantly, making a rapid note. “And you never saw him before he was married?”
“No, sir.”
“Will you swear to that?”
“To the best of my belief, sir.”
“Very good. And have you seen him often since?”
“Not very often, sir. You see, he don’t come much over to Battisford, and I don’t go much over to Cranston—”
“Quite so. Now, do you remember a Mr Robert Durnford coming to stay at ‘The Silver Fleece’?”
“Yes, sir—well.”
“When did he come?”
“He came—let me see—it was on a Saturday evening. I remember it, because it was the day before Mr Hubert Dorrien was lost.”