“I think you’re wise,” Roger replied, getting to his feet again. “Well, Alec, what about that stroll of ours? I’m afraid it will have to be a moonlit one now.” He paused in the doorway and turned back. “Good-night, Mrs. Plant, if I don’t see you again; I expect you will be turning in fairly early. Sleep well, and don’t let things worry you, whatever you do.” “I’ll try not to,” she smiled back. “Good-night, Mr. Sheringham, and thank you very much indeed.” And she heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief as she watched his disappearing back. The two made their way out on to the lawn in silence. “Hullo,” Roger remarked, as they reached the big cedar, “they’ve left the chairs out here. Let’s take advantage of them.” “Well?” Alec demanded gruffly when they were seated, disapproval written large in every line of him. “Well? I hope you’re satisfied now.” Roger pulled his pipe out of his pocket and filled it methodically, gazing thoughtfully into the soft darkness as he did so. “Satisfied?” he repeated at last. “Well, hardly. What do you think?” “I think you scared that wretched woman out of her wits for absolutely nothing at all. I told you ages ago you were making a mistake about her.” “You’re a very simple-minded young man I’m afraid, Alec,” Roger said, quite regretfully. “Why, you surely don’t mean to say you disbelieve her?” Alec asked in astonishment. “H’m! I wouldn’t necessarily say that. She _may_ have been speaking the truth.” “That’s awfully good of you,” Alec commented sarcastically. “But the trouble is that she certainly wasn’t speaking the whole of it. She’s got something up her sleeve, has that lady, whatever you choose to think, Alec. Didn’t you notice how she tried to pump me? How did I know what time she’d been in there? Had she left anything else there? When did I find the handkerchief? No, her explanation sounds perfectly reasonable, I admit, as far as it goes. But it doesn’t go nearly far enough. It doesn’t explain the powder on the arm of the couch, for instance; and I noticed at dinner that she doesn’t powder her arms. But there’s one thing above all that it leaves entirely out of the reckoning.” “Oh?” Alec asked ironically. “And what may that be?” “The fact that she was crying when she was in the library,” Roger replied simply. “How on earth do you know that?” said the dumbfounded Alec. “Because the handkerchief was just slightly damp when I found it. Also it was rolled up in a tight little ball, as women do when they cry.” “Oh!” said Alec blankly. “So you see there is still a lot for which Mrs. Plant did most certainly not account, isn’t there? As to what she did say, it may be true or it may be not. In gist I should say that it was. There’s only one thing that I’m really doubtful about, and that’s the time when she said she was in the library.” “What makes you doubt that?”