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"
"No photographs. No letters?"
"No."
"Be careful."
"Nothing."
"No one saw you going back to her the second time?"
"No."
"No one saw you leave her in the morning?"
"No."
"You were fortunate. Sit down again, man. I must think."
Think! Think out this accursed thing--so beyond all thought, and all
belief. But he could not think. Not a coherent thought would come. And
he began again:
"Was it his first reappearance with her?"
"Yes."
"She told you so?"
"Yes."
"How did he find out where she was?"
"I don't know."
"How drunk were you?"
"I was not drunk."
"How much had you drunk?"
"About two bottles of claret--nothing."
"You say you didn't mean to kill him?"
"No-God knows!"
"That's something."
"What made you choose the arch?"
"It was the first dark place."
"Did his face look as if he had been strangled?"
"Don't!"
"Did it?"
"Yes."
"Very disfigured?"
"Yes."
"Did you look to see if his clothes were marked?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Why not? My God! If you had done it!"
"You say he was disfigured. Would he be recognisable?"
"I don't know."
"When she lived with him last--where was that?"
"I don't know for certain.


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