"Now, perhaps, you will explain why you are here?" says Mrs. Geoffrey, speaking as sternly as her soft voice will permit. "How did you get in?"
"Through the window. I was passing, and found it open." There is some note in his voice that might well be termed mocking.
"Open at this hour of the morning?"
"Wide open."
"And the lamp, did you find it burning?"
"Brilliantly."
He lifts his head here, and laughs aloud, a short, unmirthful laugh.
"You are lying, sir," says Mona, contemptuously.
"Yes, deliberately," returns he, with wilful recklessness.
He moves as though to take up the pistol again; but Mona is beforehand with him, and, closing her fingers round it, holds it firmly.