"Yes. Those were my views until three or four days ago."
"And what caused you to change your mind, dear?"
"A visit which Clara Greeby paid me."
"Oh." Lambert sat up very straight. "She hasn't been making mischief, has she?"
"Not at all. On the contrary, she has done both of us a great service."
Lambert nodded thankfully. He felt doubtful as to whether Miss Greeby really had meant to renounce her absurd passion for himself, and it was a relief to find that she had been acting honestly. "Has she then learned who killed Pine?" he asked cautiously.
Lady Agnes suddenly rose and began to pace the room, twisting her gloves and trying to control herself. Usually she was so composed that Lambert wondered at this restlessness. He wondered still more when she burst into violent tears, and therefore hastened to draw her back to the chair. When she was seated he knelt beside her and passed his arm round her neck, as distressed as she was. It was so unlike Agnes to break down in this way, and more unlike her to sob brokenly. "Oh, I'm afraid—I'm afraid."
"Afraid of what, darling?"
"I'm afraid to learn who killed my husband. He might have done so, and yet he only fired the first shot—"
"Agnes," Lambert rose up suddenly, "are you talking of Garvington?"