“The police have no information on that point at present, miss.”
She struck a match, and lit the cigarette. “Well, I didn't, if that's what you want to know. Have you come here to arrest me, or something?”
“Certainly not, miss. All I wish to do is to make a few inquiries. Anything you can tell me that would throw some light on -”
She shook her head. “Sorry, but I can't. We haven't been on speaking terms for months.”
“Excuse me, miss, but if that's so, how do you come to be in Mr Vereker's house now?”
“Oh, that's easy,” she replied. “He wrote me a letter which made me see red, so I came down to have it out with him.”
“May I ask if you have that letter, miss?”
“Yes, but I don't propose to show it to you, if that's what you're after. Purely personal.”
“I take it the matter was very pressing? Mr Vereker would have been in London again on Monday?”
“Well, I didn't feel like waiting till Monday,” retorted Antonia. “He wasn't in Eaton Place when I rang up, so I took a chance on his being here. He wasn't, but the beds were made up, and there was some milk and butter and eggs and things in the larder, which made it look fairly certain that he was expected, so I waited for him. When he didn't turn up at midnight I went to bed, because it seemed to be a bit late to go home again then.”