"She would be consumed with jealousy because my companion in the garden last night happened to be a charming girl of nineteen." "It is possible." "So she went off and got someone to kill her, and tie her body with a rope, and arrange a dramatic setting whereby it would be patent to the meanest intelligence that I was the criminal ?" Mr.Fowler smiled, and looked fixedly at P.C.

Robinson.
"No, no," he said, quite good-humoredly.

"That would be carrying realism to extremes.

Still, I am convinced, Mr.Grant, that this mystery is bound up in some way with your romance of three years ago.

At present, I admit, I am working in the dark." He rose.