“But aren’t you mistaken about the canary?” Mason asked.
“Certainly I’m not mistaken about him. Rita Swaine was holding that canary in her hand. She’d just started to clip his claws when this young man grabbed her in his arms. And the shameless way in which she twined herself around him made me blush for her. I never did see such carryings-on. She certainly never learned embraces like that in any young woman’s finishing school. She just—”
“And what happened to the canary?”
“The canary was flying all around the place, frightened, and fluttering up against the windows.”
“And the man had been there for some time then?”
“Yes. And he let her go and she was all flustered and nervous. She tried to catch the canary, and couldn’t. The young man slipped out into the adjoining room. And then I heard the accident.”
“So then you left the dining room window and ran to the front window, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And then what happened?”
She lowered her voice and said, “After this young man had gone back into the Prescott house, I went back to the dining room window. I couldn’t help wondering what he and Mrs. Prescott—”