Mr. Toogood would have been surprised had he seen how utterly the girl who now walked quickly forward into the dining room of Bonnie Doon had changed in looks from the sad, listless, pale young creature to whom he had delivered her lover’s message a few days before. Mr. Kentworthy grasped her hand warmly and his eyes twinkled as he exclaimed:
“I’ve got up from my sick-bed in spite of my wife’s protests. I said to Mrs. Kentworthy, ‘Now, this is just the sort of job I’m going to enjoy thoroughly—clearing an innocent man of a foul charge’—for that’s what we’re going to do, Miss Bower. We may have a difficult task before us, but there are already several very important points in our favour.”
“Yes,” chimed in Mrs. Maclean, “Mr. Kentworthy has been telling me that the Crown, in spite of the limitless money at their disposal, have failed to trace any arsenic to Harry’s possession. But I’m astonished to hear that there’s arsenic in almost everything in use. Did you know that?” She turned to her husband.
“Of course I did,” he answered curtly.
“Even in chocolate,” went on Mrs. Maclean, with a touch of excitement. “Every chocolate manufacturer has a certain amount of arsenic allowed him by the Government—so much per ton of chocolate.”
“That’s why it’s lucky for us, my dear madam, that Mr. Garlett made china instead of sweets,” exclaimed the private detective, smiling. “And now,” he said, turning to Dr. Maclean, “I suppose we must get down to business. Shall we go into your study, sir? I have got your former statement to me here. We must go over the whole thing again, and I want you to put your mind to telling me anything—however small or apparently unimportant—that may be of value to us.”
But in spite of skilful cross-examination and shrewd suggestive questioning, the hour which followed in Dr. Maclean’s consulting room yielded little or no fresh material for Mr. Kentworthy to work upon, and at last he said:
“I wonder, sir, if you would mind my seeing Miss Bower alone? She is more likely to talk frankly to me if there are none of her family present.”
Dr. Maclean looked dubious.
“I don’t believe that would be the case with my niece,” he replied. “But it shall be as you wish, Mr. Kentworthy. Talk to the girl frankly—as frankly as you have talked to me. For one thing she deserves frankness.” He added, in a rather shamefaced voice, “I take it, Mr. Kentworthy, that you still feel an unshaken belief in Garlett’s innocence?”