"Because I think you'll be much more open with me if you realise that it's no use trying to conceal certain facts. To start with, I know that the General didn't get on with his son, but seemed to prefer his nephew; I know that he disapproved violently of Miss de Silva, and behaved towards her with unparalleled cruelty."
"How much?" interrupted Dinah.
Harding replied with perfect gravity: "No absinthe, no shower in her bathroom, dead hares, and -"
" Did she tell you all that?" said Dinah. "Don't you think she's rather good value?"
"Yes, but she wastes my time. I know that young Billirigton-Smith sat outside her door holding his head in his hands for an hour after his father had disinherited him, I know he left the house in an extremely overwrought condition, and had hysterics when he returned. I know that Mrs. Halliday was encouraging the General to flirt with her, and that Halliday loathed it. I know that your sister had a quarrel with the General yesterday morning that upset her very much, and I know also — I am being perfectly straightforward, Miss Fawcett — that she and Guest are in love with each other. Does that clear the air at all?"
Dinah grimaced. "You know too much, Mr. Harding. What on earth is there left for me to tell you?"
"You're going to tell me your version of what happened yesterday —- bearing in mind that I've received from one at least of the people I've mentioned , a highly coloured account."
"Yes, but I don't want to say anything that might make you suspect Fay, or Stephen, or even Geoffrey of having done the murder," objected Dinah frankly.
"Remember, Miss Fawcett, that I've already enough data about all these people to make me suspect them."
"Well, go ahead," sighed Dinah, folding her hands in her lap.