“Yes, I quite see that,” said Antonia, trying to be fair, “but Kenneth's story was a much better one, all the same, because you can't disprove it, and it doesn't place him anywhere near Ashleigh Green. I really don't think much of yours, Rudolph. Can't you think of something better? We'll all help, won't we?”
“Speaking for myself, no,” replied Giles.
“Then I think it's pretty mouldy of you. Kenneth, what do you think Rudolph had better say?”
“I won't have a hand in it,” said Kenneth. “My first idea was the best: let Rudolph be the scapegoat. It's the best solution all round. He's only a nuisance as it is.”
“He may be a nuisance, but you needn't think I'm going to let him carry the blame for you!” Antonia flashed.
“Who said it was for me? Aren't you in on this?”
Giles intervened once more, his eyes on his wristwatch. “This is all very enthralling, but may I remind you, Kenneth, that I came here to talk to you of something quite different? I suggest that we close this entirely arid discussion.”
“Certainly!” said Mesurier, his eyes smouldering. “I'm leaving in any case. I may say that if I'd known the sort of thing I was going to be treated to I should never have come. Though I suppose I might have guessed! Oh, please don't trouble to show me out!” This last savagely polite remark was cast at Antonia, who, however, paid no heed to it, but followed him into the hall, carefully shutting the door behind her.
Kenneth drifted back to the sofa. “Well, with any luck that ought to bust up the engagement,” he observed.
“What you need is kicking,” replied Giles, without heat.