He was in a mood to be brusque with an archbishop.
"We can disregard your confidences, or explanations, to the police," said Ingerman smoothly.

"Three years ago, I suppose, my wife spoke of me ?" "If you mean Miss Adelaide Melhuish--yes." "I do mean her.

To be exact, I mean the lady who was murdered outside this house last night." Grant realized instantly that Isidor G.Ingerman was a foeman worthy of even a novelist's skill in repartee.

Thus far, he, Grant, had been merely uncivil, using a bludgeon for wit, whereas the visitor was making play with a finely-tempered rapier.
"Now that you have established your identity, Mr.Ingerman, perhaps you will tell me why you are here," he said.
"I have come to Steynholme to inquire into my wife's death." "A most laudable purpose.

I was given to understand, however, that at one time you took little interest in her living.