“Yes,” he said presently, “I suppose it is. But there is something ... something horrible behind this case, Bruce, something dark and ... and mysterious. And I mean to get to the bottom of it. With your help. Or alone!”
Bruce put his hand impulsively on the other’s arm.
“You can count on me, you know,” he said. “But don’t you think ...”
He broke off shyly.
“What?”
“Don’t you think you’d better tell me what you know. And what you suspect!”
Robin hesitated.
“Yes,” he said, “that’s fair. I suppose I ought. But there’s not much to tell, Bruce. Just before Hartley Parrish was found dead, I asked Miss Trevert to marry me. I was too late. She was already engaged to Hartley Parrish. I was horrified ... I know some things about Parrish ... we had words and I went off. Five minutes later Miss Trevert went to fetch Parrish in to tea and heard a shot behind the locked door of the library. Horace Trevert got in through the window and found Parrish dead. Every one down at Harkings believes that I went in and threatened Parrish so that he committed suicide ...”
“Whom do you mean by every one?”
Robin laughed drily. “Mary Trevert, her mother, Horace Trevert ...”