“I promise that I will not do so,” said Lily eagerly.
“I am glad for your sake that that odious man did not ask for a statement from you. Had you to sign anything at the police station?” To Lily’s intense relief, she now spoke quite amiably, and her face was again set in its usual grim, handsome immobility.
“No, I was not asked to sign anything,” said the girl. “In fact, the Commissioner did not ask me many questions. He only wanted to know at what time poor Mr. Ponting left La Solitude, and I told him that as I was going up to bed I had heard you say good night to him. And, of course, of course, Aunt Cosy——” she blushed, and looked distressed.
“Yes?” said the Countess uneasily, “yes? What is it Lily? Is there anything that you’ve not yet told me?” A look of apprehension came into her eyes.
“I did not think it necessary to say that I thought poor Mr. Ponting had had too much to drink.”
“I’m glad you kept that to yourself!” There was great relief in the Countess’s voice. “I did not like to ask you, dear child, but, of course, I have had that painful memory in my mind all the time. To people like us there is something so strange in the love of strong drink. The first time that poor man came here he took a little too much, and I remonstrated with the Count—I begged him not to bring him again. But alas! Angelo has so kind a heart, and the poor fellow seemed so lonely.”
“I suppose one cannot help a guest having too much wine?” said Lily hesitatingly. There had come back to her mind the way the Count had filled up his guest’s glass again and again.
“It is difficult—very difficult! But you may have noticed that I offered him water?”
“Yes, I did notice that,” said Lily.
“Can you remember any of the questions asked you by that M. Bouton?”