The Inspector strove with himself. "Of all the ! Look here, sir, on your own showing you've told me a lot of lies, not to mention what you told Inspector Gook, and now you turn round and say I don't believe you because you're a foreigner! Whatever next!"
"I have shown you that it is of no account that I have concealed from you the truth. It is, in fact, for the best. You have made a mistake to drag from me the fact that I have lied to you, and you will regret it, for you think now that it is I who have killed Carter, and that is not so. Ah, but it is folly! Why, I demand of you, should I kill him?"
"By all I can hear, sir, you're very friendly with Mrs. Carter," said Hemingway significantly.
"You think that I killed Carter that I might marry Mrs. Carter?"
"Well," said Hemingway, "that's why you'd like me to think Mr. Steel did it, isn't it?"
"Oh, my friend, you are quite mistaken! No, no, it was not necessary that I should kill Carter, I assure you! You must know that he was not an estimable man, not a good husband, not any longer attractive, you understand. The affair would have arranged itself better, for Mrs. Carter might so easily have divorced him. You perceive? You are a man of the world; I can speak frankly to you. I desire to marry Mrs. Carter: I do not make a secret of it. But I do not like that Carter should be murdered; I prefer infinitely a divorce. It is reasonable that, is it not? Consider!"
The unexpected candour of this speech quite took the Inspector's breath away. The Prince's face had cleared; in his voice was a note of unmistakable sincerity.
"Am I to understand, sir, that Mrs. Carter was intending to divorce her husband?"
The Prince's eyelids drooped; his sidelong look, and the gleam of a smile seemed to take the Inspector into his confidence. He spread out his well-manicured hands. "Gently, gently, if you please! You wish me to tell you that it was arranged already, but you must know that these things do not arrange themselves in the flash of an eye. I am entirely honest with you, and I say that all was in good train. I do not flatter myself when I say that I am a more desirable parti than this poor Carter. What would you? He is already growing old; he drinks; he spends the money that is his wife's on other women; he is not even amusing! Above all, she does not love him. Consider again! I am not old; I do not become a little fuddled every night; I do not forget to accord to Mrs. Carter that admiration which is her due. I am poor, yes, but I am a prince, and to be, instead of Mrs. Carter, the Princess Varasashvili, would be a great thing, would it not? Ah, yes, one may say that the divorce was sure! You will see that I am perfectly frank with you, Inspector."
"You certainly are!" said Hemingway, almost bereft of speech.