"No, he won't," declared Miss Finch, with unaccustomed positiveness. "They took sandwiches."
The two women exchanged glances. "Who is with Mr. Forbes?" asked the younger. Her manner implied her right to know.
"Ag—well, Miss Kent went with him." And to herself Miss Finch added wildly, "I can't have a lie on my conscience, even for Agatha."
"Who else was in the party, please?" The young woman in black and white had become a judge, and Miss Finch, the prisoner at the bar.
"There wasn't anybody else," gasped Miss Finch, with every indication of uttering a deliberate and premeditated falsehood.
"Where were they going?"
"I don't know exactly. They were going for a picnic somewhere, but I didn't hear 'em say where. I don't know as they knew themselves."
The judicial sternness became more marked as the prisoner's embarrassment increased. "You mean that Mr. Forbes and Miss Kent have gone off for the day with—sandwiches?" Something in her inflection made the mention of sandwiches the crowning insult to her intelligence.
"Yes," faltered Miss Finch guiltily. "They often take long walks, and carry a picnic lunch."