“Then, I can go,” she said, simply.
“Sure, you can go,” Burke replied, amiably.
Without any delay, yet without any haste, Mary glanced toward Gilder and Demarest, who were watching the scene closely. Her eyes were somehow appraising, but altogether indifferent. Then, she went toward the outer door of the office, still with that almost lackadaisical air.
Burke waited rather impatiently until she had nearly reached the door before he shot his bolt, with a fine assumption of carelessness in the announcement.
“Garson has confessed!”
Mary, who readily enough had already guessed the essential hypocrisy of all this play, turned and confronted the Inspector, and answered without the least trace of fear, but with the firmness of knowledge:
“Oh, no, he hasn't!”
Her attitude exasperated Burke. His voice roared out wrathfully.
“What's the reason he hasn't?”
The music in the tones of the answer was a vocal rebuke.