Courtney laughed. It was the breaking of a tension. He felt again his old liking and respect of Dr. Rich.
"Well," said Rich, slapping his knees and getting up, "I suppose I'd better go in and confess. The longer I keep this thing on my conscience, the worse I shall sleep at night."
"But for your private ear, Doctor: between ourselves, I don't think you've got much to worry about."
Rich stopped.
"No? What makes you think that?"
"You might look at the facts, for one thing. You weren't anywhere near this house on Thursday, were you? That is, until late Thursday night?"
"No, I certainly wasn't. Oh, ah! I see. The strychnine!" Enlightened, Rich rubbed his chin. "In the midst of my own troubles, I almost forgot it. Sir Henry's note said they thought it had been put into a grapefruit."
"That's right. So, unless you can think of a way of administering strychnine at long range, you can't be counted in. Any more than Miss Browning here can." Ann was amused.
"Don't be too sure," she mocked him. "I was here, you know."
"You were not. You were sitting at Major Adams's with H.M. and Masters and me."