It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. ” Drummond, a few years older, dark, clean-shaven, with bright eyes and humorous mouth, laid down his paper and turned towards Sir John. ’ ‘Now why didn’t I make that connection?’ Gerald asked of the air in a tone of regret. What were you doing at Remenham House? I can’t puzzle that bit out. But she did not believe he would do that. He slid out of her. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. They all left the room. He has always plenty of evidence in reserve.
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