The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club by Dorothy L Sayers

"It is new to me," said Lord Peter, glancing from the back window of the taxi at the other taxi which was following them, "to be shadowed by the police, but it amuses them and doesn't hurt us."

He was revolving ways and means of proof in his mind. Unhappily, all the evidence in favor of Ann Dorland was evidence against her as well -- except, indeed, the letter to Pritchard. Damn Penberthy. The best that could be hoped for now was that the girl should escape from public inquiry with a verdict of "Not proven. " Even if acquitted -- even if never charged with the murder -- she would always be suspect. The question was not one which could be conveniently settled by a brilliant flash of deductive logic, or the discovery of a bloodstained thumb-mark. It was a case for lawyers to argue -- for a weighing of the emotional situation by twelve good and lawful persons. Presumably the association could be proved -- the couple had met and dined together; probably the quarrel could be proved -- but what next? Would a jury believe in the cause of the quarrel? Would they think it a prearranged blind, or perhaps -- or mistake it for the falling-out of rogues among themselves? What would they think of this plain, sulky, inarticulate girl, who had never had any real friends, and whose clumsy and tentative graspings after passion had been so obscure, so disastrous?