"So it seems," he replied. His glance took in Glass, and Hannasyde, and Neville. "Perhaps you will tell me why my house has been invaded at this singularly inappropriate hour of the day?"
John!" The faint cry came from Helen. "I'll tell you. Don't ask them! Oh, won't you let me speak to him alone? Superintendent, I beg of you - you must realise - give me five minutes, only five minutes!"
"No, Mrs. North."
"You're inhuman! You can't expect me to break such news to him in public - like this! I can't do it! I won't do it!"
" If your sister and Mr. Fletcher choose to withdraw they may do so," said Hannasyde.
"You too! Oh, please! I won't run away! You can guard the door and the window!"
"No, Mrs. North."
"Gently, Helen." North walked across the room to where she was standing, and held out his hand. "You needn't be afraid to tell me," he said. "Come, what is it?"
She clasped his hand with both of hers, looking up into his face with dilated eyes full of entreaty. "No. I'm not afraid. Only of what you'll think! Don't say anything! Please don't say anything! You see, I've just confessed to the Superintendent that it was I - that it was I who killed Ernie Fletcher!"
A silence succeeded her words. North's hold on her hand tightened a little; he was looking down at her, his own face rather pale, and set in grim lines. "No," he said suddenly. "It's not true!"