Jarvis set the tray down on the table and began to remove the remains of supper. "A difficult case, sir?" he inquired.
Harding looked at him. "I'm a fool," he said.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that, sir," replied Jarvis encouragingly.
"Not only a fool, but a damned fool," said Harding. "The thing's been staring at me in the face, and I've only just realised it."
"Ah well, sir, better late than never," said Jarvis. "Will you be wanting me any more tonight?"
Shortly after five o'clock on the following afternoon, Inspector Harding's car drew up once more before Lyndhurst Vicarage, and the Inspector and Sergeant Nethersole got out. The Sergeant, who had been lost in thought all the way from Ralton, said slowly: "I wonder if she saw Mr. Billington-Smith at all?"
Harding rang the front-door bell. "Yes, I think so, undoubtedly."
The Sergeant sighed, and shook his head. "In my opinion," he said, "it's a bad business. A very bad business, and I don't mind admitting to you, sir, that I don't half like it."
"No, I don't like it myself," replied Harding. He turned, as the parlourmaid opened the door. "Mrs. Chudleigh?"
The parlourmaid, who, in spite of his quite innocuous behaviour on the occasion of his first visit, seemed still to regard him with trepidation, stood back to let him enter the house, and said in a gasp that she would tell the mistress he wished to see her.