‘We have a statement from Mr. Randolph Verdew,’ said the policeman gently. ‘He said that he ... he ... he met Mr. Rollo at the castle in the early hours of the morning.’
‘But how can you be so stupid!’ cried Mrs. Verdew. ‘It wasn’t Rolui — it was Mr. Rintoul who . . .’
‘What name is that?’ asked the policeman, taking out his notebook.
L. P. Hartley, The Travelling Grave and Other Stories
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