“No.”
“But you saw some one?”
“I saw Mr. Marsland.”
“Ah!” The commonplace tone in which the word was uttered indicated that the sergeant was deeply disappointed with her story. “We know all about his visit there. He came and told us—it was through him that we discovered the body. He has been straightforwardness itself: he has told us everything.”
“Did he tell you I was there?”
“No; he has not mentioned your name. Perhaps he didn’t see you.”
“We were in the house together, and I was with him when he went upstairs and discovered the body.”
“He has said nothing about this,” said the sergeant impressively. “His conduct is very strange in that respect.”
“I am afraid I am to blame for that,” she said. “As he walked home with me from the farm on his way to the police station I asked him if he would mind saying nothing about my presence at the house. I told him that I was anxious to avoid all the worry and unpleasantness I should have to put up with if it was publicly known that I had been there. He readily agreed not to mention my name. I thought at the time that it was very kind of him, but in thinking it all over since I am convinced that I did wrong. I have come to the conclusion that it was a very extraordinary thing for him to agree to as he did, not knowing me—we had never met before. I felt that the right thing to do was to come to you and tell you all I know so that you can compare it with what Mr. Marsland has told you. In that way you will be able to make fuller inquiries, and to acquit him of any sinister motive in his kind offer to me to keep my name out of it.”
The sergeant nodded his head slowly. There was much to take in, and he was not a rapid thinker.