“Thanks. But really I’d rather go by myself, if you’ll put the boat into the water for me.”
They walked down to the boat-house, got out one of the boats and brought it round to the tiny jetty for her. She stepped lightly aboard, waved her thanks, and pulled with easy strokes to the Kestrel, which had just let go her anchor. The two men watched her get safely on board the yacht and then turned back towards the house.
“I suppose we’ll hear all about it to-night or to-morrow,” hazarded Douglas, as they left the jetty. “You seem a bit relieved, Conway; and I feel rather that way myself. It’s been a stiffish three days for a girl, thanks to Master Freddie.”
“I am relieved,” Westenhanger acknowledged. “I’ve had her troubles very much on my mind, and I’m only too glad to see light ahead. But you needn’t expect to learn much about the Talisman business, Douglas; she never had anything to do with that, you know.”
“At least one part of this infernal mix-up will be straightened out, though, and that’s always something.”
Westenhanger made a gesture of assent.
“One never knows what may come out, once people start talking,” he said, hopefully. “It’s quite on the cards we may hit on a new idea, after we’ve heard Mrs. Brent. She’s the missing witness, the only person who hasn’t had a chance to tell her story of what happened that night.”
“Who’s that coming up in the car, I wonder,” said Douglas.
Westenhanger looked across the lawn and saw a motor with a single passenger at the front door of the house.
“Seems to be Eric Dangerfield.”