"That's a secondary consideration——"
"I don't think so," put in the rector. "I think that's the first thing to be decided. Knowing that one could speculate——"
Iris turned away wearily. Though fond of the gentle little Mrs. Bowen, she had never liked the pompous and self-important clergyman, and she rose now to greet someone who appeared at the outer door.
It was Roger Downing, who, always devoted to Iris, was now striving to earn her gratitude by showing his willingness to be of help in any way he might. He came every day, and though Iris was careful not to encourage him, she eagerly wanted to know just what he knew about Bannard's presence at Pellbrook on the day of the tragedy.
"It's this way," Downing expressed it. "Win was certainly up here last Sunday, for I saw him. Now, Iris, if you want me to say I was mistaken as to his identity, I'll say it—but, I wasn't."
"You mean, sir, you would tell an untruth?" said Mr. Bowen, severely.
"I mean just that," averred Downing; "I care far more for Miss Clyde and her wishes than I do for the Goddess of Truth. I'm sorry if I shock you, sir, but that is the fact."
Mr. Bowen indeed looked shocked, but Iris said, emphatically, "You were mistaken, Roger, you must have been!"
"Very well, then, I was," he returned, but everyone knew he was purposely making a misstatement.
"Where was he?" said Iris, altogether illogically.