“That Russell woman. Something very queer about her, and so I’ve always said. But Roger wouldn’t hear a word against her. Said she was a woman of great force of character, and that he admired and respected her. He was always going on about her rectitude and independence and moral worth. I think there’s something fishy about her. She was certainly doing her best to marry Roger. But I soon put a stop to that. She always hated me. Naturally. I saw through her.”

I began to wonder if there was any chance of stemming Mrs. Ackroyd’s eloquence, and getting away.

Mr. Hammond provided the necessary diversion by coming up to say goodbye. I seized my chance and rose also.

“About the inquest,” I said. “Where would you prefer it to be held? Here, or at the Three Boars?”