A faint smile flickered once more on Haddo’s lips, but his eyes had still the peculiar hardness which was so uncanny. Arthur looked at him steadily.
“I have every reason to believe that you killed her,” he said.
Haddo’s face did not for an instant change its expression.
“And have you communicated your suspicions to the police?”
“I propose to.”
“And, if I am not indiscreet, may I inquire upon what you base them?”
“I saw Margaret three weeks ago, and she told me that she went in terror of her life.”
“Poor Margaret! She had always the romantic temperament. I think it was that which first brought us together.”
“You damned scoundrel!” cried Arthur.
“My dear fellow, pray moderate your language. This is surely not an occasion when you should give way to your lamentable taste for abuse. You outrage all Miss Boyd’s susceptibilities.” He turned to her with an airy wave of his fat hand. “You must forgive me if I do not offer you the hospitality of Skene, but the loss I have so lately sustained does not permit me to indulge in the levity of entertaining.”