“She lost all control over herself at last. She swore like a fishwife, and ended by taking an oath that if I did not agree she would accuse me of being her confederate in the forgery of her husband’s cheque, and the person who attempted to kill you near Grape Street police station. No one would believe, she said, that I was not mixed up in the crime. In a frenzy she fetched Larry Hughes who, smiling and sardonic, promised that he also would manufacture proof that I was concerned in the Streetly House robbery.”

“You poor kid,” murmured Labar. “And what did you say?”