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CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XII ALONE “Roger has been arrested for the murder of Lady Rawson.” The words repeated themselves over and over in Grace Carling’s brain with maddening persistence, as she sat perfectly still and silent, her hands grasping the arms of the chair, her lips firmly set, her eyes gazing straight in front of her. But for those wide, tragic eyes she might have been a stone figure. She could never afterwards clearly remember what happened in that brief half-hour—possibly less—before Roger was taken away, and she was left alone. She had made no scene—that at least was something for which to be thankful; though when the detective said he wanted to speak to her husband alone, some strong instinct had forbidden her to go, and she had moved to Roger’s side, saying quite quietly: “I don’t t
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