“Yes, and——”
“And what?”
“And guilty.” Joyce said the words solemnly, as one unwillingly pronouncing a doom.
“Mrs. Stannard, I must be unpleasantly personal. Can you think of any reason why Miss Vernon would desire your husband’s death?”
Joyce trembled visibly. “I cannot answer a question like that,” she said, in a low tone.
“I’m sorry,—but you must.”
“No, then,” and Joyce looked squarely at Natalie. “I cannot imagine why she should desire his death. I certainly cannot.”
“But any reason why she should dislike him, or wish him ill?”
“N-no.”
“Think again.”