Hadley was on his feet in an instant.
`Yes,' he said, in a louder voice, `I rather thought you had. I rather thought that was why you came to Tavistock Chambers tonight. When you heard about the murder, you couldn't wait for the usual report of your private detective over there. You had to go to her…. If she knows anything, bring her over here and let her swear to it. Otherwise, so help me God! I'll swear out a warrant for Mrs Bitton's arrest.'
Bitton shouldered out of the chair. He was fighting mad, and his usual good sense had deserted him. He flung open the, door with the broken lock, and closed it with a slam.
Rampole drew a hand across his forehead. His throat was dry and his heart hammering.
`I didn't know,' he said — `I didn't know you were so certain Mrs Bitton. had… '
There was a placid smile under Hadley's clipped moustache. He sat down again and folded his hands.
`S'h-h!' he warned. `Not so loud, please; he'll hear you. How did I do it? I'm not much of an actor, but I'm used to little demonstrations like that.'
He caught the expression on the American's face.
`Go ahead, my, boy. Swear. I don't mind. It's a tribute to my performance.'
`Then you don't believe-,’