Kent nodded, watching him closely. For a space of four heart-beats—one very slow, and three very quick—there was silence between them. Kent broke it.
“Do you see now the wisdom of frankness?”
“You mean that I shall be accused of having a hand in her death?”
“Strongly suspected, at least.”
“On what basis?”
“You are the last person known to have seen her alive.”
“Surely that isn’t enough?”
“Not of itself. There’s a bruise back of your right ear.”
Involuntarily Sedgwick’s hand went to the spot.
“Who gave it to you?” pursued Kent.