"Had I spoken openly you would have asked questions which I could not answer."
"You must answer them now. Did you murder my mother yourself?"
"Good heavens! no. How can you ask such a thing?" cried Shawe, furiously. "Is this the opinion you have of me?"
"Very well," said Audrey, coolly; "you are innocent yourself, so we will let that pass. Miss Toat said that you have never been the same since she told you something that Parizade had said. What is it?"
Shawe reflected for a few moments. "I see that I shall have to tell you all, my dear," he said sadly, "although I have done my best to spare you the knowledge. Parizade, while wandering about the Pink Shop on the night of the crime, smelt a strong scent of Harris tweed. Listen," and Ralph told the girl in detail the same story as the blind woman had told Perry Toat.
"Well," said Audrey, much puzzled, "it seems that someone who wore Harris tweed was in the passage hiding. But what has this to do with your desire that I should know nothing?"
"Who is it that constantly wears Harris tweed--almost constantly, that is?" asked Shawe.
"Plenty of people wear Harris tweed--both men and women. Why, my father--"
"Yes," said Ralph, interrupting pointedly, "your father."
Audrey grew red and white by turns. "My father--you suspect my father?"