"Don't tell me it's a necking-party!" said Neville incredulously.
She gave a short laugh. "No. But I'm giving it a chance to become one. If only John weren't so - so idiotically unapproachable!"
"These strong men! Oh, do tell me! If it turns out to be John who killed Ernie, do we seek to cover up the evidence of his guilt, or not?"
She did not answer, but, as they reached the drawingroom window, pulled her arm away from his, and said abruptly: "Are you capable of speaking the truth, Neville?"
"Didn't you hear me just now, speaking the truth to the Sergeant?"
"That was different. What I want to know is this, are you in love with Helen?"
"Oh, God give me strength!" moaned Neville. "A chair - brandy - a basin! Romance, as pictured by Sally Drew! Tell me, does anyone really read your works?"
"All very well," said Sally, critically surveying him. "But you're quite a good actor, and I can't get it out of my head that you agreed to try and wrest those IOUs from Ernie. I haven't before seen you falling over yourself to render assistance to people."
"No, darling, and believe me, you won't see it again. Not that I did. If I fell it was because I was pushed. Don't tell me you've inserted this repulsive notion into John's head!"
"I haven't, of course, but I shouldn't be altogether surprised if it were there. I may be wrong, but one thing I do know, and that is that he's being extremely guarded - not to say frozen."