"Yes, there's something in that. . . . Oh, just tell me one thing. Why did Mark tell Miss Norbury about his imaginary brother?"
"That's puzzled me rather, too, Bill. It may be that he was just doing the Othello business—painting himself black all over. I mean he may have been so full of his appearance as Robert that he had almost got to believe in Robert, and had to tell everybody. More likely, though, he felt that, having told all of you at the house, he had better tell Miss Norbury, in case she met one of you; in which case, if you mentioned the approaching arrival of Robert, she might say, 'Oh, I'm certain he has no brother; he would have told me if he had,' and so spoil his joke. Possibly, too, Cayley put him on to it; Cayley obviously wanted as many people as possible to know about Robert."
"Are you going to tell the police?"
"Yes, I suppose they'll have to know. Cayley may have left another confession. I hope he won't give me away; you see, I've been a sort of accessory since yesterday evening. And I must go and see Miss Norbury."
"I asked," explained Bill, "because I was wondering what I should say to—to Betty. Miss Calladine. You see, she's bound to ask."
"Perhaps you won't see her again for a long, long time," said Antony sadly.
"As a matter of fact, I happen to know that she will be at the Barringtons. And I go up there to-morrow."
