chattering, at a table near them. The waiter approached. Mr. Cupples rose,
and, taking Trent's arm, led him to a long tennis-lawn at the side of the
hotel.

'I have a reason for telling you all this,' began Mr. Cupples as they paced
slowly up and down.

'Trust you for that,' rejoined Trent, carefully filling his pipe again. He lit
it, smoked a little, and then said, 'I'll try and guess what your reason is,
if you like.'

Mr. Cupples's face of solemnity relaxed into a slight smile. He said nothing.

'You thought it possible,' said Trent meditatively--'may I say you thought it
practically certain?--that I should find out for myself that there had been
something deeper than a mere conjugal tiff between the Mandersons. You thought
that my unwholesome imagination would begin at once to play with the idea of
Mrs. Manderson having something to do with the crime. Rather than that I
should lose myself in barren speculations about this, you decided to tell me
exactly how matters stood, and incidentally to impress upon me, who know how
excellent your judgement is, your opinion of your niece. Is that about right?'

'It is perfectly right. Listen to me, my dear fellow,' said Mr. Cupples
earnestly, laying his hand on the other's arm. 'I am going to be very frank. I
am extremely glad that Manderson is dead. I believe him to have done nothing
but harm in the world as an economic factor. I know that he was making a
desert of the life of one who was like my own child to me. But I am under an
intolerable dread of Mabel being involved in suspicion with regard to the
murder. It is horrible to me to think of her delicacy and goodness being in
contact, if only for a time, with the brutalities of the law. She is not