"It doesn't matter who told me, miss. Do you shoot?"
"No! I mean, yes, in a way I do," said Vicky, becoming flustered all at once. "But I practically never hit anything! Do I, Mary? Mary, you know it was only one of my acts, and I'm not really a good shot at all! If I hit anything, it's quite by accident. Mary, why are you looking at me like that?"
Mary, who had been taken by surprise by the sudden loss of poise in Vicky, stammered: "I wasn't! I mean, I don't know what you're talking about!"
"You think I did it!" Vicky cried, springing to her feet. "You've always thought so! Well, you can't prove it, any of you! You'll never be able to prove it!"
"Vicky!" gasped Mary, quite horrified.
Vicky brushed her aside, and rounded tempestuously upon the Inspector. "The dog isn't evidence. He often doesn't bark at people. I don't wear hair-slides, I'd nothing to gain, nothing! Oh, leave me alone, leave me alone!"
The Inspector's bright, quick-glancing eyes, which had been fixed on her with a kind of bird-like interest, moved towards Mary, saw on her face a look of the blankest astonishment, and finally came to rest on Hugh, who seemed to be torn between anger and amusement.
Vicky, who had cast herself down on the sofa, raised her face from her hands, and demanded: "Why don't you say something?"
"I haven't had time to learn my part, miss," replied the Inspector promptly.
"Inspector, it's a privilege to know you!" said Hugh. Vicky said fiercely, between her teeth: "If you ruin my act, I'll murder you!"