Someone called: "Basil! Do come here!" from the direction of the stairs, and Fountain began to walk away, saying over his shoulder: "Mind you claim the penalty for being masked after midnight, Amberley!"
In another moment he was gone. The contadina's muscles relaxed. She said: "Why did you do that? Why didn't you let him unmask me?"
"You ought to be grateful to me for not letting him," said Mr. Amberley.
"I am grateful. But why did you do it? I know very well you don't trust me."
"Not an inch," said Mr. Amberley. "But I'm handling you myself."
"If you think I'm a thief - oh, and a murderess too! - why don't you give me up to the police?" she said bitterly.
"Well," said Mr. Amberley, "having given way to a somewhat foolish impulse and refrained from mentioning your presence on the scene of the murder to the police, I can't very well come out with it now. And who am I to question your interest in antiques?"
She put up her hand and ripped her mask off; her face was flushed, her eyes stormy. "I hate you!" she shot out. "You didn't shield me out of- out of consideration! It was because you want to solve what you choose to think is a mystery by yourself!"
"Quite right," agreed Mr. Amberley. "Though somewhat involved."
She looked as though she would have liked to hit him. "Then let me tell you I'd rather you went downstairs now and let the Fountains know I'm a gate-crasher and a thief than — than have you following me and spying what I do!"