"Yes. Well, since I saw you I've had time to think it over, and of course I realise that when it's a question of murder it would be terribly wrong of me to keep anything back. Moreover -' she smiled shyly across at him -'you were so very nice about it, not - not giving me away to my husband, that I feel sure I can trust you."
"I had better make it clear, Mrs. North, that while I have not the smallest desire to create any unnecessary unpleasantness in connection with this case, my consideration for your feelings cannot interfere with the execution of what I may decide to be my duty."
"Of course not; I quite appreciate that."
He looked at her. A few hours earlier she had been nervous to the point of distraction, but she had herself well in hand now. She met his eyes deprecatingly, but quite squarely, and was sure enough of herself to employ little feminine tricks to beguile him. She was a lovely woman; he wondered what the brain behind her soft blue eyes was evolving. She was probably playing a part, but so well that he could not be sure of it. It was easy to believe that she had concealed some of the truth earlier in the day; the reasons she put forward for having done so were quite credible; but it would not be so easy to know how much of whatever revelations were to come was to be believed.
He said impersonally: "Well, Mrs. North? What is it that you are going to tell me?"
"It is about what happened after I hid behind that bush, outside Mr. Fletcher's study. I said that as soon as the man who came up the path had entered the house I went away. Actually, I didn't go away."
His keen eyes narrowed slightly. "Indeed! Why not?"
She began to fidget a little with the clasp of her handbag. "You see, what I originally said about my interview with Mr. Fletcher wasn't true. It - it wasn't amicable. At least, not on my part. Mr. Fletcher, as you suggested this morning, Superintendent, did want something from me which I - which I was more than unwilling to give. I don't want to give you a false impression. Looking back, I feel sure I lost my head over the whole affair, and - and perhaps exaggerated things. Mr. Fletcher was using my IOUs against me, but in a playful sort of way. I expect it was only a bluff, for really he wasn't a bit like that. Only I was frightened, and behaved stupidly. I went round to his house that evening to try to persuade him to give me back my notes. Something he said made me lose my temper, and I walked out of the house in a rage. But while I was hiding behind the bush I realised that losing my temper wasn't going to help me. I thought perhaps I ought to have another shot at coaxing the notes out of Mr. Fletcher, though at the same time I rather dreaded the idea of going back into that room."
"Just a moment!" Hannasyde interrupted. "What happened in the study while you were hiding behind the bush?"
"I don't know. You remember I told you that I thought the man I saw closed the window? Well, that was true. I only heard a confused murmur of voices. I don't think he was in the room for more than six or seven minutes. It seemed longer to me, but it can't have been, because the clock in the hall began to strike ten when I finally left the house. But I haven't got to that yet. While I was still waiting, and not knowing quite what I ought to do next, the window of the study was pushed open, and both Mr. Fletcher and the other man came out. Mr. Fletcher had a light, carrying voice, and I distinctly heard him say: "A little mistake on your part. Permit me to show you the way out!"'