The Agony Column

I suppose I should have insisted. But her voice was charming, her manner

perfect, and that odor of lilacs reminiscent of a garden I knew long

ago, at home.

"Very well," said I.

"Oh--I am grateful to you," she answered. Her tone changed. "I

understand that, shortly after seven o'clock last Thursday evening, you

heard in the room above you the sounds of a struggle. Such has been your

testimony to the police?"

"It has," said I.

"Are you quite certain as to the hour?" I felt that she was smiling at

me. "Might it not have been later--or earlier?"

"I am sure it was just after seven," I replied. "I'll tell you why: I

had just returned from dinner and while I was unlocking the door Big Ben

on the House of Parliament struck--"

She raised her hand.

"No matter," she said, and there was a touch of iron in her voice.

"You are no longer sure of that. Thinking it over, you have come to the

conclusion that it may have been barely six-thirty when you heard the

noise of a struggle."

"Indeed?" said I. I tried to sound sarcastic, but I was really too

astonished by her tone.

"Yes--indeed!" she replied. "That is what you will tell Inspector Bray

when next you see him. 'It may have been six-thirty,' you will tell him.

'I have thought it over and I am not certain.'"

"Even for a very charming lady," I said "I can not misrepresent the

facts in a matter so important. It was after seven--"

"I am not asking you to do a favor for a lady," she replied. "I am

asking you to do a favor for yourself. If you refuse the consequences

may be most unpleasant."

"I'm rather at a loss--" I began.

She was silent for a moment. Then she turned and I felt her looking at

me through the veil.

"Who was Archibald Enwright?" she demanded. My heart sank. I recognized

the weapon in her hands. "The police," she went on, "do not yet know

that the letter of introduction you brought to the captain was signed by

a man who addressed Fraser-Freer as Dear Cousin, but who is completely

unknown to the family. Once that information reaches Scotland Yard, your

chance of escaping arrest is slim.

"They may not be able to fasten this crime upon you, but there will be

complications most distasteful. One's liberty is well worth keeping--and

then, too, before the case ends, there will be wide publicity--"