Reggie shook his head.
"No, not in this case. I know, in fact, that onlythree days ago Clifford went to his Life Insurance Office and increased his insurance enormously. Besides," and he shrugged his shoulders, "you know perfectly well that he was sound in wind and limb. You have shot with him. You know how deuced strong he was. Not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his body. No, no, it wasn’t heart disease."
"Then you suspect . . ."
Reggie leant over:
"I suspect nothing. I'm afraid they may suspect me . . . the police may suspect . . . me."
Harding threw himself back in his chair and drew a long breath.
"Have you told the police?"
"No, I came straight here. I thought it would be better to come straight here. But the police must be called in. You see how much worse it makes it for me if I don’t call them in at once."
Harding rose from his chair and stood by th emantelpiece.
"I can't believe it!" he said, "I can't believe it! Isn't it possible that you're mistaken?" he said, snatching at a hopeless gleam of hope.
Reggie shook his huge, flabby head.
"No, no chance of that. I know death when I see it. I was in the Boer War, you remember. Besides, his chin had dropped; his eyes were staring. Poor chap, he was very good to me."
