Timothy replied defiantly:
“Because I bain’t.”
George Ball went on:
“Arson it seems to be, accordin’ to Wilson. He told me in servants’ hall that he had left the garage not five minutes afore fire started. Positive, he was, that all was snug. In my quiet way I spoke o’ cigarettes, but Fred Wilson don’t smoke terbacker in no form. And he swears that no match was lighted by him this blessed afternoon. Bag o’ mystery this be, because my lady had no enemies in these parts.”
“Liar!” remarked Timothy.
The astonished constable glared at him.
“What you say?”
“I said, liar. I be her enemy.”
George, utterly dazed, wiped his forehead, ejaculating:
“Queer talk, I must say.”