“I see. Had he any control over her actions?”
“We should have got married whatever he said, if that is what you mean.” Fielding paused, and looked from one to the other with a rueful smile. “Come, Superintendent, why beat about the bush? You want to know whether he had been threatening me with exposure, don't you? Of course he had, and of course it would have been highly unpleasant for me if he had.”
“Thank you, doctor,” said Hannasyde, and turned his head as the door opened.
Mrs Matthews came into the room with Stella behind her. She looked charming in a black frock with touches of white at the throat and wrists, and if she had put her hair up in haste at least the ordered waves showed no signs of it. She checked on the threshold, and said: “Oh, have we interrupted you? I'm so sorry, but my son told me that you wanted to see me, er—Superintendent.”
“No, please come in,” said Hannasyde, rising from his chair by the table. “I needn't keep you any longer now, doctor.”
Mrs Matthews waited until Fielding had left the room, and then advanced towards Hannasyde, and sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the table, indicating to him with a graceful wave of her hand that he might resume his seat. Stella, admiring her exquisite poise, perched on the arm of her chair, and gravely regarded the Superintendent.
“You wanted to see my daughter too, didn't you?” said Mrs Matthews. She laid her hand on one of Stella's, and added with a laugh that seemed to take the Superintendent into her confidence: “I know you won't mind my being here while you talk to her. I'm afraid she has a very guilty conscience, and is terrified lest you should ask her awkward questions about such things as driving without a rear light!”
Stella wriggled uncomfortably, and muttered: “Mother, really!”
“That isn't my department, Miss Matthews,” said Hannasyde.
“I know,” replied Stella indignantly.