"Well, could I have a word with you before you go? It isn't important! - at least, it doesn't really matter - but I thought I'd like to."
Mathilda reflected that fright had had an appalling effect upon Mr. Roydon's powers of self-expression. "All right, as long as it hasn't anything to do with the murder," she said.
"Oh no, nothing to do with that!" he assured her.
"I suppose you want me to go?" said Mottisfont.
Roydon disclaimed, not very convincingly, but Mottisfont said with a short laugh that he knew how to take a hint, and left the room.
"Well?" said Mathilda.
"It's nothing much, but you took such an intelligent interest in my work that I wanted to tell you that I've thought over what you said, and come to the conclusion you were right. Either Wormwood is good enough to stand on its own merits, or it had better be chucked into the incinerator. I daresay that you heard Paula say that she would put it on. Well, I shan't let her. The whole idea of getting a backer was wrong."
"I see," said Mathilda, more than a hint of dryness in her voice.
"I felt I'd like you to know."
"Yes, I quite see."