"I don't care now who knows the truth. I killed Lord Wilmersley."
"Don't listen to her! Don't you see that she is not accountable for what she is saying?" cried Cyril. He had forgotten everything but that she was a woman—his wife.
"I killed Lord Wilmersley," Amy repeated, as if he had not spoken, "but I did not murder him."
"Does your Ladyship expect us to believe that you happened to call at the castle at half-past ten in the evening, and that during an amicable conversation you accidentally shot Lord Wilmersley?" demanded Griggs.
"No," replied Amy contemptuously, "of course not! I—" She hesitated.
"If your Ladyship had not ulterior purpose in going to Newhaven, why did you disguise yourself as a boy and live there under an assumed name? And who is this Frenchman who posed as your brother?"
Amy threw her head back defiantly. A faint colour swept over her face.
"Monsieur de Brissac was my lover. When we discovered that his Lordship was employing detectives, we went to Newhaven, because we thought that it was the last place where they would be likely to look for us. I disguised myself to throw them off the scent."
"But the description the inspector gave me of the boy did not resemble you in the least," insisted Cyril.
"It was I nevertheless. I merely cut off my hair and dyed it. See!" She snatched the black wig from her head, disclosing a short crop of reddish curls.