She stared at me as if she was trying to read my thoughts.
"Is that true?" she said.
"Well," I replied, "he was alive enough when I left him, judging from his language."
"Then why did your partner—Mr. Marwood—why did he say that you had done it?"
"That," I said softly, "is a little question which George and I have got to discuss together some day."
She walked to the door and then turned.
"If a man I had trusted and worked with behaved like that to me," she said slowly, "I should kill him."
I nodded my approval of the sentiment. "I daresay it will come to that," I said; "the only thing is one gets rather tired of being sentenced to death."
She gave me another long, curious glance out of those dark brown eyes of hers, and then going out, closed the door behind her.
For an exceedingly busy and agreeable quarter of an hour I occupied myself with the contents of the tray. There was some very nicely grilled whiting, a really fresh boiled egg, a jar of honey, and a large plate of brown bread and butter cut in sturdy slices. Best of all, on the edge of the tray were a couple of McMurtrie's cigarettes. Whether he or Sonia was responsible for this last attention I could not say. I hoped it was Sonia: somehow or other I did not want to be too much indebted to Dr. McMurtrie.