"Not necessarily."
"Oh yes! You always draw your characters rather more than life-size. We should have more brains, too. You, for instance, would know how to make your soup -"
"Any where to buy the - the ingredients, which actually one just doesn't know," she interpolated.
"Exactly. Helen would go and scream blue murder outside the house, to draw the policeman off while you blew up the safe, and I should put up a great act to regale him with on his return, telling him I thought I heard someone in the study, and leading him there when you'd beaten it with the incriminating documents. And can you see any one of us doing any of it?"
"No, I can't. It's lousy, anyway. It would be brought home to us because of Helen's being an obvious decoy."
"Helen would never be seen. She'd have merged into the night by the time the policeman got there."
"Let's discuss possibilities!" begged Helen.
"I'll go further, and discuss inevitabilities. We shall all of us sit tight, and let the police do the worrying. Ernie's dead, and there isn't a thing we can do, except preserve our poise. In fact, we are quite definitely in the hands of Fate. Fascinating situation!"
"A dangerous situation!" Sally said.
"Of course. Have you never felt the fascination of fear? Helen has, in that gambling-hell of hers."