She flushed, and her lips quivered. "Yes, I asked for it. I can't explain, only - if there wasn't any real reason why I shouldn't marry him - ?"
He frowned at her, a little puzzled. "I don't think I get what you're driving at. Is there a reason - any kind of reason?"
"No! But no one would believe that! No one could believe it!"
"That sounds rather sinister! See if Timothy will believe it!"
"No, no, he couldn't!"
"Well, if that's so, you'd be well out of marriage with him, wouldn't you?" said Mr. Kane calmly.
Chapter Eleven
While young Mr. Harte had been pursuing his matrimonial plans, and while various interested persons wondered uneasily why the Chief Inspector had not again descended upon them, Hemingway had not been idle. Upon Inspector Grant's return from his singularly barren visit to Mr. Seaton-Carew's Bank, both men had visited Mr. Godfrey Poulton's mansion in Belgrave Square. Admitted by a stately butler, who regarded them with patent distaste, they were ushered into a morning-room at the back of the house a little before lunch-time, and left to kick their heels there while the butler went to ascertain his mistress's pleasure. When he reappeared, he gave Hemingway the impression of one suffering from an acute attack of nausea. "Her ladyship will receive you," he said, overcoming his feelings sufficiently to enable him to utter these degrading words. "Be so good as to follow me, if you please!"
"Will you stomach the like of this?" muttered the Inspector, touched on the raw.
"That's all right, Sandy," said Hemingway consolingly. "You'll get used to it! It's not a bit of good thinking you can muscle into the best houses: they don't entertain the police. You come quietly, or we shall have this poor fellow bursting a blood-vessel!"