"I see. And when the sergeant comes to ask you whether your brother had any reason for wishing to shoot Collins, what are you going to say?"
"None," she answered with an effort. "None whatsoever."
Amberley ceased to lounge against the wall and came across the room to her and sat down on the edge of the table. She looked up at him half-defiant, half-afraid. He laid his hand over both her tightly clasped ones and held them. "Don't you think it's time you told me all about it?" he said. "Come! I'm not such a bad person to confide in, you know."
To his surprise one of her hands twisted under his and clasped it for a moment. "I know," she said unexpectedly. "But I can't. It's no use asking me. I daren't tell you anything. Mark's dead, but I'm not finished yet. I - I don't give in easily.".
"You daren't tell me," he repeated. He sat looking down at her somewhat enigmatically. "I'm going to make you," he said. "No, not now, but soon. My — er - amour propre is wounded. You shall confide in me. Of your own free will, too." He got up and glanced at his watch. "Now I am going to suggest to you that you come back with me to Greythorne. My aunt will be charmed to have you, and you cannot possibly remain here alone."
She flushed and said gratefully: "Thank you. You're being kinder than perhaps I deserve. But I can't come and stay at Greythorne. I — I shall leave this place and go to the Trust House in Upper Nettlefold. Please don't press me. I'm quite safe with my dog and my gun. I - I don't get drunk, you see."
"The Trust House? You mean the Boar's Head, in the Market Square? I'd much rather have you under my eye at Greythorne."
She smiled faintly. "I don't want to be under your eye, thanks."
"I know you don't. Will you come to Greythorne for tonight and move to the Boar's Head tomorrow?"
"No, thank you. I shall stay here tonight. Really, I shall be all right." She rose and held out her hand. "I — I'm sorry I've been rude to you. Thanks for all you've done for me. Will you - would you mind going now?"