"She married some yeahs ago," he continued, so well-pleased with the cumulative effect of the impression he was making, as even to venture an imitation of the Archdeacon's accent. "And her husband is still alive." Mrs. Lewknor challenged swiftly. "Where did she marry?" she asked, lest another question should be asked first: for the honour of the regiment was involved. "At the Registrar's Office, Lewes." "When?" "September 14th, 1906." The man had his story pat enough to be sure. "Who told you?" asked Mrs. Lewknor aggressively. Mr. Spink pursed his lips. "I have it on reliable information." "I know your authority, I think," said Mrs. Trupp quietly. "Did you check it?" asked Mrs. Lewknor. "It was unnecessary," replied the curate insolently. "I can trust my authority. But if you doubt me you can check it yourself." "I shall of course," retorted the little lady. Then the Chairman interposed. "It looks like a case for the police," he said. "Certainly," Lady Augusta rapped out. "It's very serious," said the Chairman. "For somebody," retorted Mrs. Lewknor. By common consent the case was adjourned. The Reverend Spink retired to Old Town. The fierce hostility of Mrs. Lewknor, and the no less formidable resistance of Mrs. Trupp, made the curate uneasy. After dark he went round to Alf Caspar's garage. "You're sure of your facts?" he asked. "Dead cert," said Alf. "Drove em there meself." "And the date?" "Marked it down at the time, sir.... I can show it you in me ledger. Always make a note of me engagements. You never know when it mayn't come in handy." He went down to his office, followed by the curate, and was proceeding to take a bulky folio down from the shelf, when the telephone bell rang. It was Mr. Trupp to say the car would be wanted at four to-morrow afternoon. "Is it a long run, sir?" asked Alf. "No," came the answer. "Lewes--Mrs. Trupp." Alf determined to send a man and not drive himself. CHAPTER XXXVIII SUSPENSE Ruth walked home across the golf links, at her heart the agony of the beaten vixen who, crawling across a ploughed field still far from her earth, glances round to see a white wave of hounds breaking over the fence at her brush. At Billing's Corner she nearly ran into her mother-in-law. For the first time Anne paused deliberately to address her. "That you, Mrs. Caspar?" she said, and looked away a sour smirk on her face. At the moment, beautiful old woman though she was, with her porcelain complexion of a girl, her snow-white hair, and broad-splashed dark brows, there was a suggestion of Alf about her--Ruth noticed it at once and was afraid.