But Mrs. Hurd put it away from her with a vehement hand.
"I'm not cold, miss—I'm burning hot. He made me come in here. He said he'd do better if the children and I ud go away a bit. An' I couldn't go upstairs, because—because—" she hid her face on her knees.
Marcella had a sudden sick vision of the horrors this poor creature must have gone through since her husband had appeared to her, splashed with the blood of his enemy, under that same marvellous moon which—
Her mind repelled its own memories with haste. Moreover, she was aware of the inspector standing at the kitchen door and beckoning to her. She stole across to him so softly that Mrs. Hurd did not hear her.
"We have found all we want," he said in his official tone, but under his breath—"the clothes anyway. We must now look for the gun. Jenkins is first going to take him off to Widrington. The inquest will be held to-morrow here, at 'The Green Man.' We shall bring him over." Then he added in another voice, touching his hat, "I don't like leaving you, miss, in this place. Shall Jenkins go and fetch somebody to look after that poor thing? They'll be all swarming in here as soon as we've gone."
"No, I'll stay for a while. I'll look after her. They won't come in if I'm here. Except his sister—Mrs. Mullins—she may come in, of course, if she wants."
The inspector hesitated.
"I'm going now to meet Mr. Raeburn, miss. I'll tell him that you're here."
"He knows," said Marcella, briefly. "Now are you ready?"
He signed assent, and Marcella went back to the wife.