“Possibly,” Garside repeated.
“Be that as it may,” Nick added, “we know the Claytons were not expecting him this evening, or they would have remained at home. If they——”
He cut short his remark upon hearing the front door hurriedly opened, immediately followed by the familiar voices of Clayton and his wife, addressing Chick Carter in terms of hearty greeting.
Nick quietly closed the library door, then turned quickly to Garside, saying impressively:
“They have returned. Not one word to them, Garside, about our suspicions. Leave me to handle this matter and state what seems proper.”
Garside complied without a moment’s hesitation.
“What you say goes, Mr. Carter,” he replied. “You are better able than I to determine what will be for the best.”
Nick laid his hand on the secretary’s arm.
“Let me explain,” he said, even more earnestly. “I must look deeper into this matter before I can decide what will be for the best. In the meantime, Garside, I am averse to arresting Madame Clayton. If she was justified in killing this man, or was mentally irresponsible, as now appears quite possible, I wish to shield the Claytons from needless publicity. Until I have ferreted out the true facts, therefore, I will not arrest this woman.”
“I am glad to hear you say so,” Garside quickly asserted. “I have admired her, Carter, and feel a very deep sympathy for her. There may be, as you say, a justification for the crime. It seems both needless and cruel, moreover, to arrest her while in her present condition.”