“What are you going to do now?” she asked in a strained unnatural voice.
The inspector pressed his hand to his side, and his stern gaze dwelt upon her thoughtfully. “That depends,” he answered. “My plain duty is to arrest you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said wearily. “Nothing can matter now. Give me five minutes and I will be ready to go with you.”
The inspector read her purpose as an open book. He shook his head. Five minutes—one minute—alone, and such a woman in such a state of mind was ripe for any desperate act. He had no mind to add a suicide to the other complications of his position.
“I want to ask you a few questions before I decide what course I shall take. You are not bound to answer them. But I don’t suppose that the whole truth can make your position any worse than it is now.”