“I don’t see,” said Miss Blow, “that there’s much difference between him and the rest of you. I haven’t heard six consecutive words of truth since I came to Clonmore.”
“There you are now, Goddard,” said Lord Manton. “That’s what you get by interrupting. Don’t mind him, Miss Blow. Please go on. What you say is most interesting.”
“There is just one house between the spot at which they were seen and Pool-a-donagh,” said Miss Blow. “The hotel-keeper told me that too.”
“I think that’s true,” said Miss Farquharson. “I noticed that there were very few houses while we drove along yesterday.”
“Therefore,” said Miss Blow, “they were murdered in that house.”
Mr. Goddard started violently. The sequence of Miss Blow’s reasoning had the effect of a strong electric shock on him. He would have protested if Mrs. Dick had not begun to wail again. When she was pacified by Miss Farquharson’s scowls, Lord Manton began to speak.
“Perhaps——” he said.
“I know what you’re going to say,” said Miss Blow. “You are going to suggest that they are not murdered, but that they have deserted their wives.” She glanced at Miss Farquharson as she spoke.
“I wish you wouldn’t talk of us as if we were all their wives,” said Miss Farquharson. “I am not a married woman. I am Mr. Sanders’ aunt. That is his wife.”