“As a matter of fact,” French answered, sweetly, “what I mean is, was the accident genuine or faked?”
The colonel squared his shoulders indignantly.
“I consider that a most unwarrantable remark,” he said, hotly, “and I shall not answer it. I can only suppose your abominable calling has warped your mind and made suspicion a disease with you.”
French glanced at him keenly. The man was genuinely angry. And if so, it tended in his favour. Real indignation is difficult to simulate and would not be called forth by an imaginary insult.
“If you think my remark unwarrantable, I shall withdraw it,” French said, with his pleasant smile. “I simply wanted to know whether you yourself believed in it. I think you do. Well, Colonel, I think that’s all we can do to-night. I’m sorry to have given you all this annoyance, but you can see I had no option.”
They had reached the gate of Torview. Domlio stopped the car.
“Then you are not going to arrest me?” he asked, with barely concealed anxiety.
“No. Why should I? You have accounted in a reasonable way for the suspicious circumstances. So far as I can see, your explanation is satisfactory. I can’t expect any more.”
The colonel gave a sigh of relief.
“To be quite candid,” he admitted, “I scarcely hoped that you would accept it. After what has occurred, I can’t expect you to believe me, but for what it’s worth I give you my word of honour that what I have told you this time is the truth. I may tell you that I have been afraid of this very development ever since the tragedy. How are you getting to Ashburton? Shall I run you in?”