"No one told me."
"What makes you think - ?"
"Mrs. Haddington isn't your sort, my lady. Nor, from what I can make out, was Seaton-Carew."
She said quickly: "Put that out of your mind! There was never any question of such a thing between Seaton-Carew and me! Just an acquaintance! A man I asked to my parties!"
"And he was pretty closely tied-up with Mrs. Haddington?"
"That had nothing to do with it! I met him in the South of France - before I knew of her existence!"
"I see. And you met Mrs. Haddington - ?"
Her thin chest heaved; she said breathlessly: "I need not account to Scotland Yard for my friends, I suppose!"
"No," replied Hemingway. "You needn't, but it might be a good thing if you did, my lady. Of course, I don't know, but it did occur to me that you might - in a manner of speaking - have been forced to take Mrs. Haddington up. Just because you didn't want any truck with Scotland Yard." He smiled. "I often get funny ideas into my head," he offered. "You'd be surprised the number of times ladies of position go and do something indiscreet, and then don't like to say anything about it to the police. Some of them would rather be bled white, in fact. Silly, but there it is!"
She burst out laughing. "Me? No one has ever bled me for a penny, Chief Inspector!"