“Do you think she loved her husband?”
“I know she did.”
“Was there any—prior attachment?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Mr. Quentin Gray?”
Margaret smiled, rather mirthlessly.
“He is my cousin, Inspector, and it was I who introduced him to Rita Irvin. I sincerely wish I had never done so. He lost his head completely.”
“There was nothing in Mrs. Irvin’s attitude towards him to justify her husband’s jealousy?”
“She was always frightfully indiscreet, Inspector, but nothing more. You see, she is greatly admired, and is used to the company of silly, adoring men. Her husband doesn’t really understand the ways of these Bohemian folks. I knew it would lead to trouble sooner or later.”
“Ah!”