"I think he ought to be shut up in an asylum," said Nancy. "Any one who tries to commit a murder for such a ridiculous reason as me must be as mad as a hatter."
Colin shook his head. "Fenton isn't mad," he said quietly. "He's just an ordinary blackguard, and rather a clumsy one at that."
Nancy stared at him in bewilderment. "Then why——" she demanded.
"I don't know if you've ever read Boswell," continued Colin, "but Doctor Johnson says that it sharpens a man's wits wonderfully if he's just on the point of being hanged. You can take my word for it that the same thing's true about being drowned. I did a lot of thinking while I was down in that cellar, and I've come to the conclusion that we're up against something much bigger and more complicated than we've got any idea of."
Nancy sat motionless, her blue eyes fixed steadily on his.
"I don't quite understand," she said slowly, "but I somehow feel that you're right."
"I won't try to explain now," replied Colin. "My head's aching too badly for one thing, and in any case I am going to turn the whole business over to Marsden to-morrow, and I would rather wait until I hear what he's got to say about it." He paused. "Besides," he added, "I have only another three minutes, and there's something much more important I want to discuss."
"What's that?" inquired Nancy.
"Come a little closer," said Colin. "It's confidential."
Nancy moved forward obediently, and with a sudden movement Colin pushed aside the tray and took hold of her two hands.