"A highly unconvincing narrative," said Sally. "You know, if you make up much more of this gruesome story you'll be sick. I can just see you beating someone's head in!"
"Oh don't, don't!" whispered Helen. "I tell you I wasn't myself!"
"Mrs. North," interposed Hannasyde, "I think I ought to inform you that it is not enough merely to say that you murdered a man. You must prove that you did so, if you wish me to believe you."
"Isn't that for you to do?" she said. "Why should I convict myself?"
"Don't be silly!" said Sally. "You've confessed to a murder, so presumably you want to be convicted. All right, let's hear some more! How did you do it? Why weren't there any bloodstains on your frock? I should have thought you must have been splashed with blood."
Helen turned a ghastly colour and groped her way to a chair. "For God's sake, be quiet! I can't stand this!"
Glass, standing by the wall like a statue of disapproval, suddenly exclaimed: "Woman, thou shalt not raise a false report!"
"Be quiet!" snapped Hannasyde.
The Constable's glacial blue eyes seemed to scorn him, and turned towards Helen, who had raised her head, and was staring at him in fright and doubt. He said to her in a milder tone: "Deceit is in the heart of them that imagine evil. The fear of man bringeth a snare: but whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe."
Hannasyde said angrily: "Another word from you, and -'