“So early! Then she knew he would not be back. Why did she return?”
Giulia hesitated.
“I do not comprehend,” she muttered.
“When did she go away?”
“I do not remember.”
“Come, that’s nonsense, signora. You must know; try to think. She was here after one o’clock, we know that; in fact, she went straight from here to the post office where she was murdered.”
Giulia stood speechless, plucking nervously at her white apron, and as he saw her embarrassment an idea flashed to his mind.
“Great Scot! She was here the whole morning: she came in and waited. That’s so?”
She nodded a reluctant assent.
“She was here when Mr. Carling called just after one. Did he ask for her?”