"You do sometimes come across blackmailers that want something other than money," said Hemingway thoughtfully. "Not often, of course, but I have heard of it."
"You are quite, quite mistaken!" she said, gripping the back of a chair with both hands.
"Well, if that's so, I won't trouble you any longer, my lady," he said, getting up.
"I'm glad to hear it! What - what do you mean to do now?"
"Pursue my investigations," responded Hemingway promptly.
Her face twitched. "You'd better not hint at these really rather insulting ideas of yours to my husband," she said. "He is old-fashioned in his outlook, and I fear he might resent it - quite violently! That's just a friendly warning!"
"I'm very grateful, my lady."
"You're supposed to be enquiring into a case of murder," she pointed out, still gripping the chairback. "Neither I nor my husband had anything to do with that - indeed, how should we? I suggest you turn your attention to another household. Naturally, I don't wish to say anything against Lilias Haddington, but she is the person most closely linked with Seaton-Carew, not I! I ought perhaps to mention that my husband was barely acquainted with him."
"Yes," said Hemingway, "so he told me. Still, it was quite right of you to tell me, my lady, if you thought perhaps he'd forgotten to."
He then bade her a civil good-morning, to which she made no answer, and withdrew.