“Aren’t you being rather offensive?” she said.
“Please answer my questions; do you ever go to the Fulham Road?”
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
“I expect I’ve been down it at times—it’s not out of bounds, is it?”
“Have you been there lately?”
“I may have.”
“Were you there last Friday morning?”
Poole felt sure that there was a waver in the assurance of the fine brown eyes that had looked so calmly into his.
“I think you’re trying to insinuate something beastly; I shan’t answer you.”
“You refuse to answer?”