"I know, and I'm not going to worry you any more now, Lady Billington-Smith," Harding said, rising, and going towards the door. "I should like to see your stepson next."
"I'll tell him," she said. In the doorway she hesitated. "I — perhaps I ought to warn you that Geoffrey is rather excitable. He was terribly shocked by the news of his father's death. I hope you won't — I hope you need not…"
"I'll be as considerate as I can," Harding promised.
"Thank you," she said, and went out.
When she had gone there was a moment's silence . Harding came back to the table, frowning slightly. The Sergeant scratched his cheek, and presently said: "I never heard anyone say anything against her ladyship, sir. Very well spoken of, she is, and always has been. At the same time, I wouldn't say that the General didn't try her pretty far, because by all one hears that wouldn't be the truth. Very far he tried her."
"You know her better than I do, Sergeant."
"Well, sir, that's a fact, and if you was to ask me, I should say her ladyship wouldn't hurt a flea."
"At the same time," Harding said, "she is in an extremely overwrought condition. If half of what the servants deposed in the statements the Superintendent look is true it wouldn't be very difficult to believe that she was goaded to the pitch of murder."
The Sergeant thought it over. "To my mind, sir, it wasn't her. More likely to be that foreign hussy, or this Mr. Halliday."
At this moment the door opened to admit Geoffrey, who came in with an air of nonchalance only too palpably assumed, and broke straightway into speech. "Oh, I understand you want to see me! The trouble is I can't really be of much use to you, Inspector — I say, I absolutely can't go on calling you Inspector, Mr. Harding. It sounds so utterly wrong — I mean -" He glanced towards the Sergeant, and ended lamely: "Oh well, you know!"