n after dinner until Mr. Tranter found him to
deliver Miss Manderson's message, he lied to me deliberately. I want to
know why."

"You had better ask him," she retorted. "I do not know."

"Mr. Bolsover, the theatrical manager, told me that he found James
Layton lurking by the house, and called to Mr. Copplestone before
following him. Mr. Copplestone stated that the reason he did not hear
that call was that he had gone into the house to refill his
cigarette-case, and did not come out again until just before Mr. Tranter
found him after leaving Miss Manderson. That statement was false."

"How do you know?" she asked quickly.

"He did not go into the house to refill his cigarette-case. He had had
no opportunity to smoke afterwards, and when I questioned him his case
was almost empty. He may have gone in for another reason----or he may
not have gone in at all."

"Is it not very trivial?" she said.

"If you had been dealing with crimes and criminals as long as I have,"
the inspector returned, "you would know that nothing is trivial. At
present, Mr. Copplestone's time while the crime was being committed is
unaccounted for--and he is detected in a lie. It is not a pleasant
position to be in."

She was silent. Her hands moved nervously.

"What is the use of telling me this?" she asked.

"It occurred to me," he replied, "that you might be able to extricate
him from that position."

"Why?" she demanded resentfully.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Can you?" he insisted, watching her closely.

For a moment she paused. There was malevolence in her gaze.

"I do not know what he was doing," she said obstinately.

"Madam," said the inspector impressively, "if George Copplestone stood
in the dock in front of you, and his life depended on the truth of your
answer--would it still be the same answer?"

She turned on him.

"In the dock? What do you mean?"

"Would it still be the same answer?" he repeated sternly.

"Do you suggest that he may have committed the crime?" she exclaimed
contemptuously. "Its absurd!"

"I told you," he said, "I suggest nothing. My case must be complete. I
want to know the truth."

Silence followed. She plucked angrily at the lace edge of her gown.
Inspector Fay waited imperturbably.

"He was with me," she said, at last, sullenly.

"Thank you," said the inspector.

There was another pause.

"Please go on," he pressed her.

She did not attempt to conceal her resentment at his insisten