“Oh, past one o’clock, I should say. I didn’t notice the time very particularly. I was feeling too upset.” “Naturally. And nothing of any importance occurred between his—his ultimatum and your departure upstairs?” “No. He refused to give way an inch, and at last I left off trying to persuade him and went up to bed. That is all.” “And nobody else came in at all? Not a sign of anybody else?” “No; nobody.” “Humph!” said Roger thoughtfully. This was decidedly disappointing; yet somehow it was impossible to disbelieve Mrs. Plant’s story. Still, Jefferson might have come in later, having heard something of what had taken place from outside the room. At any rate, it appeared that Mrs. Plant herself could have had no hand in the actual murder, whatever provocation she might have received. He decided to sound her a little farther. “In view of what you’ve told me, Mrs. Plant,” he remarked rather more casually, “it seems very extraordinary that Stanworth should have committed suicide, doesn’t it? Can you account for it in any way?” “No, I certainly can’t. It’s inexplicable to me. But, Mr. Sheringham, I am so thankful! No wonder I fainted when you told us after breakfast. I suddenly felt as if I had been let out of prison. Oh, that dreadful, terrible feeling of being in that man’s power! You can’t imagine it; or what an overwhelming relief it was to hear of his death.” “Indeed I can, Mrs. Plant,” Roger said with intense sympathy. “In fact, what surprises me is that nobody should ever have killed him before this.” “Do you imagine that people never thought of that?” Mrs. Plant retorted passionately. “I did myself. Hundreds of times! But what would have been the use? Do you know what he did—in my case, at any rate, and so in everyone else’s, I suppose? He kept the documentary evidence against me in a sealed envelope addressed to my husband! He knew that if ever he met with a violent death the safe would be opened by the police, you see; and in that case they would take charge of the envelope, and presumably many other similar ones, and forward them all to their destinations. Just imagine that! Naturally nobody dared kill him; it would only make things worse than before. He used to gloat over it to me. Besides, he had always a loaded revolver in his hand when he opened the safe, in my presence at any rate. I can tell you, he took no chances. Oh, Mr. Sheringham, that man was a fiend! Whatever can have induced him to take his own life, I can’t conceive; but believe me, I shall thank God for it on my bended knees every night as long as I live!” She sat biting her lip and breathing heavily in the intensity of her feelings. “But if you knew the evidence was kept in the safe, why weren’t you frightened when it was being opened by the inspector?” Roger asked curiously. “I remember glancing at you, and you certainly didn’t seem to be in the least perturbed about it.”