Leslie was silent. Kenneth said: “Leave the kid alone, Violet. If she's misguided, at least it's with the best intentions.”
“Oh, certainly, my dear!” Violet said silkily. “But her anxiety to make us believe that you were with her all the evening would almost lead one to suppose that she would like to prove an alibi for herself.”
Antonia removed the cigarette from her mouth. “Cat,” she remarked.
Hannasyde interposed. “I am still waiting to know what sort of hat you wore last night, Mr Vereker.”
“A black felt,” said Kenneth.
“Thank you. When you left the Albert Hall shortly before ten-thirty, where did you go?”
“That question,” said Kenneth, “I must regretfully decline to answer.”
There was a short pause. Violet looked towards Giles, who had strolled to the other end of the studio, and was standing by the window, one hand in his pocket, his shoulders propped against the wall.
“You realise, do you not, Mr Vereker, that your refusal to answer me may have extremely serious consequences?”
“Produce your handcuffs,” recommended Kenneth flippantly.