Sally did not trouble to reply to this, but went purposefully out of the room. Her arrival in the library coincided with that of the butler, who informed Hannasyde that Mr. North was shaving, but would be down in a few minutes.
Helen looked at her sister, with a frown in her eyes. "It's all right, Sally. I don't need you."
"That's what you think," said Sally. "Morning, Superintendent. Why, if it isn't Malachi! Well, that is nice! Now we only want a harmonium."
"A froward heart," said Glass forbiddingly, "shall depart from me. I will not know a wicked person."
Helen, who had not previously encountered the Constable, was a little startled, but Sally responded cheerfully: "Quite right. Evil associations corrupt good manners."
"Be quiet, Glass!" said Hannasyde authoritatively. "You have asked me, Mrs. North, why I wish to see your husband, and I will tell you quite frankly that I wish to ask him to explain his movements on the night of Ernest Fletcher's death."
"And what could be fairer than that?" said Sally.
"But my husband told you! You must remember. Surely you remember! He spent the evening at the flat."
"That's what he told me, Mrs. North, but it was unfortunately not true."
Sally had been engaged in the task of polishing her monocle, but this remark, dropped like a stone into a mill pond, made her look up quickly. "Good bluff," she remarked. "Try again."