“Yes, in the whiskey-and-soda,” replied Guy recklessly.
“Stop being theatrical!” Stella said angrily. “What good do you think you're doing, making dramatic gestures? You did not drink coffee that morning, or any other morning! You don't like coffee! You're behaving like someone in a penny novelette!”
Guy paid no heed to this, but continued to address the Superintendent. “Well, have you got a warrant for my arrest?” he demanded.
“No, I'm afraid I haven't,” replied Hannasyde.
“Then you'd better go and apply for one!” said Guy.
“When I am satisfied that I have sufficient grounds for doing so, I will,” promised Hannasyde.
“I don't know what more you want!” said Guy, in a somewhat flattened voice.
Sergeant Hemingway came into the room at that moment, and handed his superior a sealed envelope.
“Excuse me, please,” Hannasyde said formally, and tore open the envelope, and spread open the single sheet it contained. He ran his eye down the typewritten lines, and then looked up, and at Guy, who said at once: “You're wasting your time trying to badger my mother. I've told you what happened. Now get on with it, and arrest me!”
“I am sorry, Mr Matthews, but you have not shown me sufficient grounds for applying for a warrant for your arrest. You have stated that you put the poison in your aunt's tea, but Miss Matthews did not swallow the nicotine which killed her.”