"You were arrested on the third of May, you told me," I said. "Going
back three weeks, I can definitely trace one occasion on which you met
Mrs. O'Rane----"
Beresford's pale face suddenly flushed.
"If you're going to drag in your foul-minded suspicions about that," he
cried, "have the decency to wait till Sonia's here."
"I told you that Mrs. O'Rane was away," I reminded him. Then I took
O'Rane by the arm. "I want to have a word with you."
I was too tired to labour upstairs again, and we could be by ourselves
outside. There was a haze over the river, rising almost before my eyes,
as the sun climbed higher. A succession of young factory girls hurried
along the Embankment on their way to work; one or two early carts
rumbled over the cobble-stones in the neighbouring streets, and a chain
of three black barges glided noiselessly towards Westminster Bridge. All
else was still. I caught sight of my dusty boots, the cigar-ash on my
waistcoat and a pair of grimy hands,--the whole desecrating the clean
clarity of the summer morning.
"Well?" said O'Rane.