“I haven’t the faintest idea”—she did not lower her eyes before Ferguson’s penetrating gaze.
“If it had been a woman,” mused Ferguson, “he surely would have stopped to put on his coat.”
“Not if he was urgently needed downstairs.”
“But who could have ‘urgently needed him’?” questioned Ferguson swiftly. “Your daughter—”
“Was unaware of his presence in the house,” haughtily. “She stood in no need of Austin’s assistance—put that idea out of your head instantly.”
“You misunderstood me,” he protested. “I was only going to say that your daughter was the only woman on the next floor.”
“So we suppose.”
Ferguson caught her up. “Do you suspect another woman was here?” he demanded. “If so who was it—one of your servants?”
“No, they were asleep in their rooms.” Mrs. Hale resumed her seat. She was commencing to feel fatigued. “You have assured yourself of that.”
“Yes,” acknowledged Ferguson. “We can eliminate them. I am, however, considering all the women who might have been here. You—”