"Dear me," muttered Mr. Chitterwick distractedly, "this is very difficult. - Well, I have satisfied myself that - - "
Alicia Dammers had risen to her feet and was unhurriedly picking up her belongings. "I'm afraid," she said, "I have an appointment. Will you excuse me, Mr. President?"
"Of course," said Roger, in some surprise.
At the door Miss Dammers turned back. "I'm so sorry not to be able to stay to hear the rest of your case, Mr. Chitterwick. But really, you know, as I said, I very much doubt whether you'll be able to prove it." She went out of the room.
"She's perfectly right," whispered Mr. Chitterwick, gazing after her in a petrified way. "I'm quite sure I can't. But there isn't the faintest doubt. I'm afraid, not the faintest."
Stupefaction reigned.
"You - you can't mean . . .?" twittered Mrs. Fielder - Flemming in a strangely shrill voice.
Mr. Bradley was the first to get a grip oh himself. "So we did have a practising criminologist amongst us after all," he drawled, in a manner that was never Oxford. "How quite interesting."
Again silence held the Circle.
"So now," asked the President helplessly, "what the devil do we do? "
Nobody enlightened him.
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The Poisoned Chocolates Case rs-5 Page 21
