Lawrence still hesitated.
“You’re not deceiving me about—about Mrs. Protheroe? You really don’t suspect her?”
“On my word of honour,” said Colonel Melchett.
Lawrence drew a deep breath.
“I’ve been a fool,” he said. “An absolute fool. How could I have thought for one minute that she did it—”
“Suppose you tell us all about it?” suggested the Chief Constable.
“There’s not much to tell. I—I met Mrs. Protheroe that afternoon—”
He paused.
“We know all about that,” said Melchett. “You may think that your feeling for Mrs. Protheroe and hers for you was a dead secret, but in reality it was known and commented upon. In any case, everything is bound to come out now.”
“Very well, then. I expect you are right. I had promised the vicar here (he glanced at me) to—to go right away. I met Mrs. Protheroe that evening in the studio at a quarter past six. I told her of what I had decided. She, too, agreed that it was the only thing to do. We—we said goodbye to each other.
“We left the studio, and almost at once Dr. Stone joined us. Anne managed to seem marvellously natural. I couldn’t do it. I went off with Stone to the Blue Boar and had a drink. Then I thought I’d go home, but when I got to the corner of this road, I changed my mind and decided to come along and see the vicar. I felt I wanted someone to talk to about the matter.