"You mean that you want to hear the particulars of—of what took place on Thursday night?"
"Yes. All. Then, and since. I have but heard snatches of the wicked tale."
He obeyed her: telling her all the broad facts, but suppressing a few of the details. She leaned against the garden-gate, listening in silence; her face turned from him, looking through the bars into the field.
"Why do they not believe him?" was her first comment, spoken sharply and abruptly. "He says he was not near the house at the time the act must have been done: why do they not believe him?"
"It is easy to assert a thing, Anna. But the law requires proof."
"Proof? That he must declare to them where he has been?"
"Undoubtedly. And corroborative proof must also be given."
"But what sort of proof? I do not understand their laws."
"Suppose Herbert Dare asserted that he had spent those hours with me, for instance; then I must go forward at the trial and confirm his assertion. Also any other witnesses who may have seen him with me, if there were any. It would be establishing what is called an alibi."
"And would they acquit him then? Suppose there were only one witness to speak for him? Would one be sufficient?"