“Don’t use that word!” almost screamed Elsie.
“How can I help it? Murder’s what’s been done, and it lies between you and that fellow Morrison. Elsie, how far have things gone between you and him? But there, I needn’t ask. I know you.” Mrs. Palmer wept convulsively.
She remained with her daughter until late in the afternoon, and twice during that time Elsie was summoned to a further interrogatory. She learnt that Morrison’s knife had been found close to the alley, and that he had been fetched from his office early in the day and taken away by the police.
It was after her mother had gone away, as the dusk was gathering, that Elsie Williams and Leslie Morrison were charged together with the wilful murder of Horace Williams.
“For God’s sake, Mrs. Williams, tell me the whole truth!”
Elsie looked dumbly at Mr. Cleaver, too sick with fright to speak.
“Do you understand that you’re in the most frightful danger?”
A sound that just amounted to an interrogation forced its way between her dry lips.
“You know what the sentence is for anyone found guilty of wilful murder?”