"It's the dead man I'm sorry for."

Brendon considered, having first looked at his watch. Personal
thoughts would thrust themselves upon him, though he felt both
surprise and shame that they could do so. Certain realities were
clear enough to his mind, however future details might develop. And
the overmastering fact was that Jenny Pendean had lost her husband.
If she were, indeed, a widow--

He shook his head impatiently and turned to Halfyard.

"Should Robert Redmayne not be taken to-day, one or two things must
be done," he said. "You'd better have some of that blood collected
and the fact proved that it is human. And keep the cigar and boot
lace here for the minute, though I attach no importance to either.
Now I'll go and get some food and see Mrs. Pendean. Then I'll come
back. I'll take the police car for Paignton at half past five if we
hear nothing to alter my plans."

"You will. This isn't going to spoil your holiday, after all."

"What is it going to do, I wonder?" thought Brendon. But he said no
more and prepared to go on his way. It was now three o'clock.
Suddenly he turned and asked Halfyard a question.

"What do you think of Mrs. Pendean, inspector?"

"I think two things about her," answered the elder. "I think she's
such a lovely piece that it's hard to believe she's just flesh and