Garlett’s medical attendant. If 61they both prove satisfactory, the Home Office will not issue what it is always reluctant to do—an exhumation order.”

61

“An exhumation order?”

As he repeated those ominous words, there was a tone of utter dismay and horror in Harry Garlett’s voice, and the older man threw him a quick, suspicious glance. Why did the suggestion of an exhumation order cause Emily Garlett’s widower such unease? Then he reminded himself that, after all, an absolutely innocent man might well quail before an ordeal which, whatever the precautions taken, was bound to become public.

“That would obviously be the next step,” he said reluctantly.

Harry Garlett took up the telephone receiver which stood on his writing-table. “I am not to be disturbed on any account,” he called through.

And then, settling himself squarely in his chair, he faced his tormentor:

“Ask me any questions you like, Mr. Kentworthy,” he said, “and I promise to answer them fully and truthfully.”

The police inspector moved his chair a little nearer to the writing-table.

“I understand, from the few inquiries I have been able to make, that Mrs. Garlett was always in delicate health?”

“That is so; indeed my wife may be said to have been born delicate. She told me once that she never remembered feeling really well. Her parents made a very late marriage, and she was an only child.”

“She was a good deal older than you were, was she not?”

Harry Garlett reddened. The fact had always been a sensitive point with him.

“I was twenty-two when I married, and my wife, at twenty-seven, seemed in my eyes still quite a young woman. She was very slender, and, at that time of her life, did not look more than twenty.”

“And I suppose I may assume that it was a marriage of affection on both sides?”

A deeper flush came over Harry Garlett’s face. Though he had an open, cheery manner, he was in some ways a very reserved man. It was, therefore, with obvious, though restrained, emotion that he answered, in a low voice:

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