“I wanted to see Colonel Protheroe alone. I did not want to see Mrs. Protheroe or Miss Protheroe. I considered this the best way of accomplishing my object.”
“Why didn’t you want to see Mrs. or Miss Protheroe?”
“That, inspector, is my business.”
“Then you refuse to say more?”
“Absolutely.”
Inspector Slack rose.
“You’ll be putting yourself in a nasty position, madam, if you’re not careful. All this looks bad—it looks very bad.”
She laughed. I could have told Inspector Slack that this was not the kind of woman who is easily frightened.
“Well,” he said, extricating himself with dignity, “don’t say I haven’t warned you, that’s all. Good afternoon, madam, and mind you we’re going to get at the truth.”
He departed. Mrs. Lestrange rose and held out her hand.
“I am going to send you away—yes, it is better so. You see, it is too late for advice now. I have chosen my part.”
She repeated in a rather forlorn voice:
“I have chosen my part.”