"Sometimes, Lady Billington-Smith, a man who has been very much angered is apt to vent his feelings on a perfectly innocent person. Is that what happened?"
She hesitated. "He was very angry," she repeated.
"So angry that he upset you?"
"it wasn't that — only partly! It is true I was a little upset yesterday morning. I have not been very well, and I had had a trying week-end. My husband — had a violent way of- of expressing himself. He shouted when he was at all irritated, and — it made my head ache. That is all."
"The cause of this violent irritation was, I think, his son's engagement to Miss de Silva?"
"Yes," Fay replied. "He was dreadfully angry with Geoffrey, and I — rather foolishly — tried to reason with him.,
"I quite understand. You were afraid that a really serious quarrel might spring up between your stepson and his father?"
"Oh no, no!" Fay said quickly. "I knew that Geoffrey would never quarrel with his father. He was too much in awe of him. I was afraid that Arthur — that my husband might turn him out of the house. He was — in some ways — a very hard man."
Harding picked up his pencil, and regarded the point of it. "Lady Billington-Smith, you must forgive me if I distress you, but was this the only cause of the scene which took place between you and Sir Arthur? There was not, on your side, any feeling of jealousy?"
"Jealousy?" she repeated blankly.
He raised his eyes. "You were not yourself angry perhaps hurt — at any undue attention Sir Arthur might have paid to one of your guests?"
She flushed. "No. I was not- angry, or hurt. Certainly not jealous. My husband had a — a playful, gallant way of — of treating women, but it didn't mean anything. Such an idea never entered my head. It was purely on Geoffrey's account, the — the scene."
"Then that is all I wish to know about that, Lady Billington-Smith. At what time did you eventually cone downstairs yesterday morning?"
"I didn't come down till my husband called to me, but I was out of my room before that, speaking to the head housemaid upstairs."
"So that you don't know what happened between Sir Arthur and his son?"
"No."
"When he called to you, what time was that?"
"It must have been just before twelve. He had just come in with — with Mrs. Halliday, and he wanted me to see that she had some roses to take away with her when she left."
"Mrs. Halliday was with him at the time?"
"Yes, but she went upstairs to her room to take her hat off. Then my husband went into his study. He said he did not want to be disturbed. It was the first of the month, you see, and he always made up his accounts, and paid the staff on that day. I remember now, it was ten minutes to twelve, because he — he called my attention to the time, saying he had wasted so much of the morning already. Then I went -"
"One moment," interposed Harding. "Was Sir Arthur still angry with you at this time?"
"He was — a little testy. Nothing, really."
Harding picked up a typewritten-sheet, headed Statement of Charles Thomson, footman. "I will put it to you quite frankly. Lady Billington-Smith: did Sir Arthur, when Mrs. Halliday had gone upstairs, speak to you very roughly, finding fault with the way you behaved towards your guests, and accusing you of lying in bed "till all hours"?"
"I believe he did say something like that," Fay replied in a suffocating voice.
"And did you answer that you couldn't bear it, that he was driving you out of your mind?"
Her eyes were fixed on his face with an expression of wondering dread in them. "I don't remember. If I did, I didn't mean it. Perhaps I said it. I was — momentarily annoyed with my husband for speaking to me rather rudely. One — one does say silly, theatrical things sometimes, when one is at all on edge."
"Yes, very often," Harding agreed, laying the footman's statement down again. "Your husband entered his study, then, at ten minutes to twelve. What did you do?"
"I went into the garden, and through the garden-hall, to find Lester, the head gardener."
"Had you any idea where he was to be found?"
"No, I asked the under-gardener. He was just taking vegetables to the kitchen."
"And he was able to tell you?"
"Yes, he said that Lester was in the kitchen-garden."
"Is that any distance from the house, Lady Billington-Smith?"
She looked at him, a worried frown in her eyes. "No. It's at the side of the house, about two minutes' walk from the garden-hall."
"How long did it take you to deliver Sir Arthur's message to Lester?"
"Well, I don't — A minute, I suppose."
"Did you say anything else to him?"
"I told him that Sir Arthur wanted him to mow the front lawn."
"Nothing else?"
"No. No, I'm sure that was all."
"And when you had delivered both these message. what did you do next?"
"I went through the kitchen-garden to the back of the house. Mrs. Twining and my sister were crossing the lawn, and they called to me."
"Lady Billington-Smith, you left the house by way of the garden-hall just after ten minutes to twelve. Mrs. Twining did not arrive until ten minutes past twelve, and it cannot have been less than twenty-five, or at the minimum twenty minutes past twelve when you joincd her on the lawn. What were you doing during that hall hour?"
Fay's hands crept along the arms of her chair, any I gripped them nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mislead you, Inspector. I didn't go to look for Lesser at once. I went into the orchard."
"Why?" said that calm voice.
She moistened her lips. "I didn't feel I could face anybody just then. I — I was rather upset."
"By what Sir Arthur had just said to you?"
"I — yes, a little. I wasn't feeling at all well. Perhaps I am rather easily upset. I went into the orchard because I wanted to be alone, and — and I knew I should be bound to meet someone in the house, or — or in the gardens."
"Did anyone see you go into the orchard?"
"I — I don't know. I don't think so. I didn't notice anyone." She stared at him. "You don't think — you don't think -"
"I don't think anything yet, Lady Billington-Smith. When you met Mrs. Twining and Miss Fawcett, what did you do?"
"We all went up on to the terrace. Mrs. Halliday was there with Mr. Guest. Mr. Guest is a connection of my husband's. Then Mrs. Chudleigh arrived, to speak to me about the Children's Holiday Fund. Oh, and I think Mrs. Halliday must have come on to the terrace just about then. I'm not quite sure. I had a very bad headache."
"Did anyone leave the terrace between then and one o'clock?"
"Mrs. Chudleigh went away. Oh, and Mr. Guest went indoors for a few minutes to fetch his tobacco."
"Would you say that was before Mrs. Chudleigh left, or after?"
"I don't know. I can't quite remember. Before, I think but I'm not sure."
"Was Mr. Guest gone long?"
"Oh no, not more than a minute or two. He just went up to his room to get his pouch, that was all."
"Had he returned when Mrs. Chudleigh got up to go.?"
"I really can't remember, Inspector. I'm not even sure that she didn't go first. I wasn't paying much attention."Fay said, a little breathlessly.
"Try and remember, Lady Billington-Smith, whether Mr. Guest was on the terrace when the butler came ow with the cocktails."
"Oh, I think he must have been! I don't exactly remember, but I know he was only away a very little while," Fay said. "I'm sorry to be so vague. You must forgive me, but — this has been a dreadful shock to me and I find it very hard to — to think back over what happened yesterday."
"I know, and I'm not going to worry you any more now, Lady Billington-Smith," Harding said, rising, and going towards the door. "I should like to see your stepson next."
"I'll tell him," she said. In the doorway she hesitated. "I — perhaps I ought to warn you that Geoffrey is rather excitable. He was terribly shocked by the news of his father's death. I hope you won't — I hope you need not…"