"Yes. Mrs. Carter said she didn't see why she should bother to put the gun back in its place for him."
"And you don't know of anyone else who went to the gun-room?"
"No, but I quite see that almost anyone could have. The front-door is always open during the summer, and any number of people must know that Mrs. Carter kept all her first husband's rifles." She turned, for the morning-room door had opened, and Dr Chester had come out into the hall.
Chester glanced from her to Hemingway. "Good morning, Inspector," he said. "I hope you haven't come to upset my patient again?"
"Oh no, I don't think so, sir!" replied Hemingway. "Very sorry Mrs. Carter was upset yesterday, but if you don't mind my saying so, you'd better speak to Miss Fanshawe about that. That was her little show, not mine. Any objection to my seeing Mrs. Carter?"
"No," Chester said, re-opening the morning-room door. "None at all."
The Inspector passed into the room. Chester shut the door behind him, and looked across at Mary with the enigmatical expression in his eyes which always made her feel that he saw a great deal more than one wanted him to. "Tired, Mary?"
She smiled, but with an effort. "A little. Rather bothered. How do you find Aunt Ermy?"
"She'll be all right. Nothing for you to worry about."
"I thought last night she was going to have a thorough breakdown. It's absurd, Maurice, but she's worrying herself sick over Vicky."