"I did not accuse you," said Mrs. Ward, beginning to find that Derrington was too much even for her. "I believe Brendon killed the woman--oh, yes! You went to the house and you saw him. He and Mrs. Jersey had words, as she would not confess, and Brendon killed her with the stiletto. Then you came in, and to save him you put the dagger into your pocket, sent him up to bed, and promised to hold your tongue, and----" Derrington laughed. "You have a most vivid imagination, Mrs. Ward," he said, with a shrug; "but, as it happens, you are talking nonsense. I was not at Amelia Square that evening, but at my club, as any member then present can assure you. I can prove what is called an alibi, Mrs. Ward, which means that I can account for every moment of my time, from the minute I left this house to the minute I returned to find you here. As to the stiletto you say you took out of my pocket, that is rubbish. On the whole, I think you had better hold your tongue." "If I go to the police they will open that drawer." "Oh, no! An Englishman's house is his castle, you know, and a man in my position cannot be treated in the way you suggest with impunity. Moreover, Mrs. Ward, there is ample time to destroy the stiletto." "Which you will do," she said, recovering her composure, now that she found it was useless to protest. "No. I wouldn't even mind showing it to the police and saying how you brought it here with an accusation. If the police can prove that this is the weapon with which Mrs. Jersey was stabbed, and if you and the police can prove that the stiletto was in my pocket on the night of the murder, then you and the police--" Derrington made an ironical bow--"are extremely clever." "Oh, very well," said Mrs. Ward, realizing her defeat, "I shall say nothing about you. But Brendon----" "You will hold your tongue about him also. I quite understand how you proposed to hold this stiletto, and the tale of its being discovered in my pocket, over me. If I did not consent to the marriage of Miss Ward and Walter--eh?" "I must do the best for my child." "Even going so far as threats. Well, I have too high a respect for Miss Ward to ask her to marry such a worm as Walter. She would do better to take Brendon." "She shan't marry him." "Why do you hate the man so?" asked Derrington, looking into her eyes. "I know he is a strong man, and for the money's sake you do not want him to be your son-in-law. But even this does not account for your hatred. Why do you hate him?" "I have nothing to say," retorted Mrs. Ward, who had flushed and paled alternately during this speech. "Please see me to the door." Derrington walked to the door and opened it with a bow. "Willingly. I think we understand one another." "I think we do," said Mrs. Ward, with an artificial laugh. "You do credit to your reputation, Lord Derrington."