He did not answer all at once. It was as if he drew back before the question, alien and disturbed, shirking the discerned, yet unintelligible issue.
"Did she tell you, Rodney?" Agatha repeated.
"Well, yes. She told me."
He seemed to be making, reluctantly, some admission. He sat down beside her, and his movement had the air of ending the discussion. But he did not look at her.
"What do you make of it?" she said.
This time he winced visibly.
"I don't make anything. If it happened—if it happened—like that, Agatha ..."
"It did happen."
"Well, I admit it was uncommonly queer."
He left it there and reverted to his theme.