"I doubt it, Busham. There is a prejudice against hanging women in this country. As to your saying that she killed Moxton, that is a lie, and you know it. The man who murdered your cousin wore a silk hat and fur coat."
"Who says so?"
"Mrs. Moxton herself. She saw the man strike the blow, but could not recognise him."
"Oh, that is an invention to save her neck," scoffed Busham. "A man in a silk hat and a fur coat? Bosh! Who is the man!"
"Well, I am not quite clear on that point," replied Ellis, speaking very slowly, "but I fancied he might be you."
Busham started from his seat with a kind of screech hardly human. "I?" he gasped. "You dare to accuse me of that crime! And on what grounds?"
"You wore a similar dress on the night you followed Moxton."
"Who says I did?"
"Your dear friend, M. Zirknitz."
Busham ground his teeth, and said something not precisely complimentary to the Austrian. After a time he recovered his calmness, but not his colour. "You accuse me of murdering Moxton?" he said.