"Don't!" cried Patricia out of the dark. "Don't say that! You almost sound as though you'd been there!.."
Morgan lowered his head. He seemed to catch sight of his wife, who was huddled back silently into the deck chair. Moving across, he sat down beside her and said in a matter-of-fact voice:
"What price horrors? Actually, what we all want is another cocktail. Wait till I get the lights on, and another bowl of ice, and I’ll mix a new shaker…"
"You don't get out of it," said Hugh grimly, "so easily as that."
"No. No," the other replied in a reflective voice, "I didn't suppose I should. Well, the only question is: Which one of us would old Depping select for his lark?"
The implication of his remark was setting slowly into all their minds when, with only a preliminary grunt, J. R. Burke spoke out. He said in a meditative voice:
"I dare say I’m obstructing justice."
"Obstructing-?"
"Don't mind obstructing justice, I don't," growled J. R. "Officious, that's what the police are. Ought to be a law against it. Still — if Gideon Fell thinks all this, got to tell it. Young fella, you think there was an accomplice, do you? What time do you think this accomplice came to see Depping at the Guest House?"
Morgan peered at him oddly. "I don't know. Any time after Depping's dinner tray was taken up; half-past eight to nine o'clock, maybe."