"Well, I'm not, but I don't mind admitting that about Strange I have got an absolute conviction that he isn't out to harm any of us. I agree he's being mysterious, and I agree that for some reason or other he may want to get us out of this place. But I don't believe the reason is a bit what you think."
"My dear girl, I don't know what to think!"
"No, but you've got an idea that he's a wrong 'un. And that's where I think you're mistaken. If he wants to get possession of this house it's for some purpose we've none of us guessed."
He hunched his shoulders lower in his chair. "Quite sure you aren't being a bit led away by a personable exterior?"
"Ever known me fall for a handsome face?"
"I haven't, but I shouldn't like to swear that you never would. And I grant you Strange is a nice-looking chap, and a powerful-looking one too, which as far as I can make out is what most women like in a man."
"Well, if that's the line you mean to stick to it's not much good my arguing," Margaret said with some asperity.
Conversation showed a tendency to flag after that. Presently Peter said: "One thing that seems to me to stand out a mile is that you're keeping something up your sleeve. Not cricket, Sis."
"Oh, shut up!" Margaret said crossly. "Even supposing I were I don't see that it makes much odds now that you've told the police the whole story."
"If you know anything about Strange that we don't, it might help the police considerably."