"Then you know who did?"
"No, I do not."
"Let me hear your story," said Dombrain, with a disbelieving smile.
"When I entered the study," began Mrs. Belswin, without further preamble, "I saw my husband. He recognised me at once. We had a stirring interview, and he turned me out of the house. I left by the French window, where he was found lying dead; and in order to get shelter for the night, I went to 'The Chequers' in Deswarth. I'm not telling you all the story, mind you, but only what suits myself. In the dock I should tell everything. Well, to resume. I waited at 'The Chequers' for some time, and then determined to return to Thornstream to say good-bye to my daughter, as I knew Sir Rupert would prevent me seeing her the next day. I arrived on the terrace just when the hour of eleven sounded. There was still a light in Sir Rupert's study, and stealing along in the dark, I saw his dead body lying half in and half out of the window. A full sense of the danger of my position flashed on me, and I saw that if I was arrested I was lost. I dare not try to enter the house by any door as they were all locked, and if a servant admitted me I should have to account for my being out at that hour of the night, which would lead to my being accused of the murder. The only way to regain my own room in safety was across the dead body of my husband, so I entered by the French window, left by the study door, and regained my bedroom without any one having seen me--except you. I did not kill him! I swear I did not!"
"I'm afraid that story would not go down in a court of law."
"I told you I had kept some of the story to myself. To use your favourite illustration, I still hold my trump card."
There was silence for a few moments, during which Mrs. Belswin, considerably agitated, used her smelling-bottle freely. Then Dombrain spoke.
"Well, there's nothing more to be said."
"I think not," said Mrs. Belswin, rising. "You know my conditions!"
"And you know mine, I think," retorted Dombrain with a malignant grin.