“What!” he exclaimed quickly. “Has her fear any connection with that tragic incident?”
In an instant he remembered the finding of a hairpin near the spot, a pin which had been proved conclusively not to belong to the murdered girl.
“I know it was you who discovered the body,” she went on, disregarding his inquiry. “Tell me the whole of the sad affair as far as your knowledge extends. I have, of course, read the accounts of the inquest which appeared in the papers at the time, but I am anxious to ascertain some further details.”
“Of what nature?”
“I want you to tell me, if you will,” she replied with an interested look, “the exact position of the body when you discovered it.”
Her question brought to his memory his ghastly discovery in all its hideousness. There arose before his vision the blanched upturned face of the girl prostrate in the dust, the fallen cycle, and the white, deserted English lane, silent and gloomy in the evening mist.
“Why do you desire me to recall an event so painful?” he asked in a calm tone.
“Because it is necessary that you should tell me exactly how you discovered her,” she replied. “You had an appointment with Liane at that very spot on that same evening, had you not?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I was, unfortunately, late in keeping it, and rode to the railway bridge at full gallop, expecting to find her still waiting, but instead, found Nelly dead.”
“She was lying in the centre of the road?”