She was willing to risk
anything--even to murder!--to get hold of that. And now you know why I
went to Normandale Grange that Saturday--you know, now, the real reason.
I told a deliberate lie at the inquest, for your mother's sake--for your
sake, if you know it. I did not go there to hand in my application for
the stewardship--I went in response to the letter I've just read. Is all
this clear to you?"
Nesta could only move her head in silent acquiescence. She was already
convinced, that whether all this was entirely true or not, there was
truth of some degree in what Pratt had told her. And she was thinking of
her mother--and of the trap which she certainly appeared to have
laid--and of her brother's fate--and for the moment she felt sick and
beaten. But Pratt went on in that cold, calculating voice, telling his
story point by point.
"Now I come to what happened that Saturday afternoon," he said. "I may
as well tell you that in my own interest I have carefully collected
certain evidence which never came out at the inquest--which, indeed, has
nothing to do with the exact matter of the inquest. Now, that Saturday,
your mother and you had lunch together--your brother, as we shall see in
a moment, being away--at your lunch time--a quarter to two. About twenty
minutes past two your mother left the house. She went out into the
gardens.
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