“But it was not my intention in asking you down, Mr Holford, to go into details of what may, or may not, have happened. We—that is, Ethelwynn and myself—know the truth.”
“Then tell it to me—relieve this burden of a crime which is oppressing me?” I begged. “Let me know the truth, and let me at least regain my lost wife.”
“Well? And if we did?” asked Ethelwynn, after a pause. “We should only lay ourselves open to an unjust retaliation.”
Were not those the words of a woman who possessed some guilty knowledge, if not herself guilty of parricide? I saw their frantic desire to close my mouth, so I let them proceed, smiling within myself at their too apparent efforts to avoid the revelations which must inevitably result.
“I do not follow your meaning,” I said. “Why should I retaliate, if you are not responsible for my wife’s absence?”
She glanced uneasily across to her lover, who exclaimed:
“As far as I see, the whole thing lies in a nutshell, Mr Holford. You have been misinformed, and have made a ridiculous and quite unfounded statement concerning Professor Greer—one which seriously reflects upon his daughter, his household, and his friends. Therefore—”
“Then does his daughter actually deny having seen him, as I saw him, lying dead in the laboratory?” I interrupted.
“I have never seen my father lying dead!” declared the girl in a low, faltering tone which in itself showed her to be uttering an untruth. “Your story is entirely unfounded.”
“Then let me tell you one thing more, Miss Greer,” I said plainly. “I myself knelt at your side with Kirk when we found you in the dining-room lying, as we thought, lifeless. There was a white mark upon your face. See! It has hardly disappeared yet; there are still traces—a slight red discoloration!”