“Does he wear glasses—gold-rimmed eye-glasses?”
“He was not wearing them then, but he does wear them as a rule. I think he told me subsequently that he had lost a pair while he was riding along—blown off by the wind.”
“What explanation did he give of his visit?”
“He had been riding across the downs from Staveley and had lost his way in the storm. His horse was lame and when he saw the house he decided to seek shelter.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Of course I did—then.”
“Do you believe him now?”
“I don’t know, Arnold, after what you have said. He may have been there before I was—it may have been he who left the key in the door.”
“I am sure of it.”
“He came in and sat down—he certainly acted as if he had never been in the house before. I do not know how long we were in the sitting-room—perhaps twenty minutes. We did not talk very much. I was busy trying to think what had become of you and Frank. I thought it best to tell him as little as possible, so I made up a story that I had found the door open and had walked in with the intention of taking shelter until the storm was over. I said nothing about the key. I began to get a little nervous as we sat there listening to the storm. I was upset about you.”