"You knew him fairly well, then?"
"No. I hardly knew him at all."
"You weren't — friends?"
"No, nor lovers, if that's what you're trying to say. Bobby Tisdall didn't know I was alive, except to hand me a cocktail."
Grant's tone changed. "And yet you'd go even to this length to get him out of a jam?" he said, quite kindly.
She braced into resentment at the kindness, "If you'd committed a murder wouldn't you confess to save an innocent person?"
"Depends on how innocent I thought the police were. You underrate us, Miss Sellers."
"I think you're a lot of idiots. You got a man who is innocent. You're busy hounding him to death. And you won't listen to a perfectly good confession when you get one."
"Well, you see, Miss Sellers, there are always things about a case that are known only to the police and are not to be learned from newspapers. The mistake you made was to get up your story from the newspaper accounts. There was one thing you didn't know. And one thing you forgot."
"What did I forget?"