“How could I?”
“I sent you a letter telling you that my father had an unexpected visitor, and that we must therefore postpone our meeting until this evening.”
“A letter!” he cried, puzzled. “I have only this moment left the Court, and no letter has yet arrived.”
“But I gave it to Nelly to post before half-past twelve yesterday morning, therefore you should have received it at five. She must have forgotten to post it.”
“Evidently,” he said. “But have you yet ascertained why she went down Cross Lane? To the police the fact of her having ridden down there in preference to the high road is an enigma.”
“No. According to the inquiries already made it has been ascertained that she went to Talmey’s at Burghfield, purchased some silk, and had returned nearly to Stratfield Mortimer when she suddenly turned, went back about half a mile, and then entered Cross Lane. She was seen to turn by two labourers coming home from their work on Sim’s Farm.”
“She was alone, I suppose?”
“Entirely,” Liane answered. “Like myself, she had no horror of tramps. I’ve ridden along these roads at all hours of the day and night, and have never been once molested.”
“The tragedy was no doubt enacted in broad daylight, for the sun had not quite set when, according to the doctor, she must have been shot while riding. Have you any idea that she had incurred the animosity of anybody?”
“No; as you well know, she was of a most amicable disposition. As far as I am aware, she had not a single enemy in the world.”