“Yes, I see what you mean,” Roger said softly. “You mean that if Jefferson did kill Stanworth, he was perfectly right to do so and we ought to let him get away with it, don’t you?” “Well,” Alec said awkwardly, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but——” “But I don’t know that _I_ wouldn’t,” Roger interrupted. “That’s why I said just now that I hadn’t decided whether I’d tell the police or not. It all depends on whether things did happen as I imagine, or not. But the thing is, I must find out.” “But must you?” Alec said slowly. “As things are at present, whatever you may think, you don’t actually _know_. And if you do find out for certain, it seems to me that you’ll be deliberately saddling yourself with a responsibility which you might wish then that you hadn’t been so jolly eager to adopt.” “If it comes to that, Alec,” Roger retorted, “I should have said that to take no steps to find out the truth now we’re so near it is deliberately to shirk that very responsibility. Wouldn’t you?” Alec was silent for a moment. “Hang that!” he said with sudden energy. “Leave things as they are, Roger. There are some things of which it’s better that everyone should remain in ignorance. Don’t go and find out a lot of things that you’d give anything afterwards not to have discovered.” Roger laughed lightly. “Oh, I know it’s the right thing to say, ‘Who am I to take the responsibility of judging you? No, it is not for me to do so. I will hand you over to the police, which means that you will inevitably be hanged. It’s a pity, because my personal opinion is that your case is not murder, but justifiable homicide; and I know that a jury, directed by a judge with his eye on the asinine side of the law, would never be allowed to take that view. That’s why I so much regret having myself to place a halter round your neck by handing you over to the police. But how is such a one as me to judge you?’ That’s what they always say in storybooks, isn’t it? But don’t you worry, Alec. I’m not a spineless nincompoop like that, and I’m not in the least afraid of taking the responsibility of judging a case on its own merits; in fact, I consider that I’m very much more competent to do so than are twelve thick-headed rustics, presided over by a somnolent and tortuous-minded gentleman in an out-of-date wig. No, I’m going to follow this up to the bitter end, and when I’ve got there I’ll take counsel with you as to what we’re going to do about it.” “I wish to goodness you’d leave it alone, Roger,” said Alec, almost plaintively. Chapter XXIII Mrs. Plant Talks