"I have never," said Miss Drew, inaccurately, but with dignity, "allowed vulgar prejudice to influence my judgment. Moreover, I don't share your conviction that as long as John isn't pinched for the murder it doesn't matter who is. Are you ready?"
Helen passed a comb through her hair, patted the waves into place, critically surveyed her profile with the aid of a hand-mirror, and admitted that she was ready.
Hannasyde was awaiting them in the library still with Neville. North said to him, with a slight, rueful smile: "We owe you an apology, Superintendent. I rather think we've rendered ourselves liable to criminal prosecution."
"Yes, you've been thoroughly obstructive," replied Hannasyde, but with a twinkle. "Now, Mrs. North, will you please tell me exactly what did happen while you were at Greystones on the 17th?"
"I did tell you," she said, raising her eyes to his face. "It was quite true, my story. Really, it was!"
"Which one?" inquired Neville.
"The one I told the Superintendent at the police station that day. I did hide behind the bush, and I did go back into the study to look for my IOUs."
"And the man you saw enter the study? You're quite sure that Fletcher saw him off the premises before 10.00 p.m.?"
"Yes, absolutely.,
"And you heard Fletcher returning towards the house just before you left the study?"