Dr. Maclean stared at the speaker with growing anger and astonishment, and the other, pursuing his advantage, as even the kindest men are sometimes tempted to do, went on—
“I have actually spoken to the person who saw them there on at least two occasions.”
Again Dr. Maclean got up. “You have actually found a man or woman who declares that he or she saw my niece, Jean Bower, and Harry Garlett, under the compromising circumstances you have described?”
“No,” exclaimed the other quickly. “I cannot say that the person in question mentioned Miss Bower. What she said—I admit it is a woman—was that she had twice seen Mr. Garlett and a young lady in the wood forming part of the Thatched House property, and that, on the second occasion, she overheard something like an altercation between the two. Garlett’s companion burst into tears and reproached him, from what I can make out, for his coldness to her.”
“Good God!” exclaimed Dr. Maclean.
He sat down again, heavily. He felt suddenly years older.
“Having said so much, I think it is only fair to you to read the exact words I put down after seeing the young woman in question.”
“Young woman? Then the author of this infamous lie is not Miss Prince?” said the doctor to himself as he listened to the inspector beginning to read from his notebook.
“It was one day late in April, I cannot fix the date. When I got to the little wood I saw Mr. Garlett and a young lady walking down the path. I did not want them to see me, so I hid behind some laurels. I think from what I could make out, they were talking about the war. There was no love-making that I could see.”
“You must understand,” explained Mr. Kentworthy, looking up, “that the person in question did not give me this connected account that I have read out. I had more or less to drag out of her these apparently unimportant details.”