“I won’t. I was a brute to be so thoughtless. Dear heart, can’t you leave this house? Why do you stay in a place of such sad memories?”
“I do want to go away—and I must. And yet, Joyce needs me. She leans on me for everything. Come into this little room, and sit down.”
They went into the cosy, low-ceiled Reception Room, and Beatrice continued. “I was just thinking I could leave her, when she became worried about Mr. Courtenay. Now, if you can convince the police that you saw him out there, just at that critical moment when the light disappeared, you will establish his alibi. Can you do this?”
“I’m sure I can. The more I think about it, the more I feel sure that it was Courtenay I saw.”
“Had he a hat on?”
“No, but his hand on the back of the bench held a cap. I saw this clearly, for the light from the studio window was very strong. But as I looked at the man, the light went out. Understand, I was not looking at him with any curiosity or even interest. Merely he was in my line of vision, that is all. When I could not see him because of the sudden darkness, I thought no more of him, and I went home then.”
“And you will go to the police and tell them this?”
“I certainly will, the first thing to-morrow morning. To-night, if you prefer.”
“No, wait till morning. Stay here a little longer. I feel lonely to-night.”
“Dear heart, can’t you learn to look to me to cheer that loneliness?”