“Sir John thought not, and the nurses had the impression you came in a little later.”

“Maybe,” said Thoms. “I really can’t remember.”

“Have you no idea what you did during the two or three minutes?”

“None.”

“Oh. In that case I’ll leave you. Boys!”

Inspector Boys returned to the theatre and Alleyn went out. In about a minute Thoms joined him.

Sir John appeared in the anteroom and washed up, assisted by Jane Harden and the matron, who afterwards helped the surgeons to dress up.

“I feel rather an ass,” said Thoms brightly. Nobody answered him.

“It is now,” said Phillips in the same grave, detached manner, “that Mr. Thoms tells me about the play at the Palladium.”

“All agreed?” Alleyn asked the others. The women murmured an assent.

“Now what happens?”

“Pardon me, but I remember Mr. Thoms went into the theatre and then called me in to him,” murmured Sister Marigold.

“Thank you, matron. Away you go, then.” Alleyn waited until the doors had swung to and then turned to where Phillips, now wearing his gown and mask, stood silently beside Jane Harden.

“So you were left alone together at this juncture?” he said, without stressing it.

“Yes,” said Phillips.

“Do you mind telling me what was said?”

“Oh, please,” whispered Jane. “Please, please!” It was the first time she had spoken.

“Can’t you let her off this?” said Phillips. There was a sort of urgency in his voice now.

“I’m sorry—I would if I could.”

“I’ll tell him, Jane. We said it was a strange situation. I again asked her to marry me. She said no—that she felt she belonged to O’Callaghan. Something to that effect. She tried to explain her point of view.”

“You’ve left something out—you’re not thinking of yourself.” She stood in front of him, for all the world as though she was prepared to keep Alleyn off. “He said then that he didn’t want to operate and that he’d give anything to be out of it. His very words. He told me he’d tried to persuade—her—his wife—to get another surgeon. He hated the idea of operating. Does that look as though he meant any harm? Does it? Does it? He never thinks of himself—he only wants to help me, and I’m not worth it. I’ve told him so a hundred times—”

“Jane, my dear, don’t.”

There was a tap on the outer door and Roberts looked in.

“I think it’s time I came and washed up,” he said.

“Come in, Dr. Roberts.”

Roberts glanced at the others.

“Forgive me, Sir John,” he began with the deference that he always used when he spoke to Phillips, “but as I remember it, Mr. Thoms came in with me at this juncture.”

“You’re quite right, Roberts,” agreed Phillips courteously.

“Mr. Thoms, please,” called Alleyn again.

Thoms shot back into the room.