The inquest, in spite of the snail-like deliberation demanded by all legal processes, did not occupy more than an hour and a half. The issue was never in the least doubt, and the proceedings were more or less perfunctory. Fortunately the coroner was not of a particularly inquisitive disposition and was quite satisfied with the facts as they stood; he did not waste very much time, beyond what was absolutely necessary, in probing into such matters as motive. Only the minimum possible number of witnesses were called, and though Roger listened carefully, no new facts of any description came to light. Mrs. Plant gave her evidence clearly and without a tremor; Lady Stanworth’s statuesque calm was as unshaken as ever. Jefferson was in the witness box longer than anyone else, and told his story in his usual abrupt, straightforward manner. “You’d never think, to see and hear him, that his whole evidence is nothing but a pack of lies, would you?” Roger whispered to Alec. “No, I wouldn’t; and what’s more I don’t,” retorted that gentleman behind his hand. “It’s my belief that he thinks he’s telling the truth.” Roger groaned gently. As far as minor witnesses went, Graves, the butler, and Roger were both called to corroborate Jefferson’s tale of the breaking down of the door; and the former was questioned regarding his discovery of the confession, while Roger told of the locked windows. Alec was not even called at all. The verdict, “Suicide during temporary insanity,” was inevitable. As they left the morning room Roger caught Alec’s arm. “I’m going to try and get hold of Mrs. Plant now, before lunch,” he said in a low voice. “Do you want to be present, or not?” Alec hesitated. “What exactly are you going to do?” he asked. “Tax her with having been blackmailed by Stanworth, and invite her to tell me the truth about the night before last.” “Then I don’t want to be there,” Alec said with decision. “The whole thing absolutely sickens me.” Roger nodded approvingly. “I think it’s better that you shouldn’t be, I’m bound to say. And I can tell you afterwards what happened.” “When shall I see you, then?” “After lunch. I’ll have a word with you before I tackle Jefferson.” He edged away from Alec and intercepted Mrs. Plant, who was on the point of ascending the staircase. Jefferson and Lady Stanworth were still talking with the coroner in the morning room. “Mrs. Plant,” he said quietly, “can you spare me a few minutes? I want to have a little chat with you.” Mrs. Plant glanced at him sharply. “But I’m just going up to finish my packing,” she objected. “What I have to say is very much more important than packing,” Roger returned weightily, unconsciously regarding her from beneath lowered brows. Mrs. Plant laughed nervously. “Dear me, Mr Sheringham, you sound very impressive. What is it that you want to speak to me about?” “If you will come out into the garden where we shall not be overheard, I will tell you.”