“Yes, I know. I wish you'd consulted me first. I'd no idea -”
“Why?” interrupted Antonia. “Gone off the scheme?”
“No, no! Good God, no! I'm utterly mad about you, darling, but it wasn't the moment, I mean, you know I'm hard up just now, and a fellow like Vereker would be bound to leap to the conclusion that I was after your money.”
“I haven't got any money. You can't call five hundred a year money. Moreover, several things aren't paying any dividend this year, so I'm practically a pauper.”
“Yes, but he had money. Anyway, I wish you hadn't, because as a matter of fact it's landed me into a bit of a mess. Well, not actually, I suppose, but it's bound to come out that we had a slight quarrel on the very day he was murdered.”
Antonia looked up, and then across the room towards the other two. They seemed to be absorbed in argument.
She said bluntly: “How do you know which day he was murdered?”
His eyes, deep blue, and fringed with black lashes, held all at once a startled look. “I - you told me, didn't you?”
“No,” said Antonia.
He gave an uncertain laugh. “Yes, you did. Over the telephone. You've forgotten. But you see the position, don't you?.. Of course, it doesn't really matter, but the police are bound to think it it bit fishy, and one doesn't want to be mixed up in anything — I mean, in my position one has to be somewhat circumspect.”