‘Do you wish me to tell you?’

‘Certainly.’

Miss Silver spoke in a quiet, level voice.

‘It is entirely possible that Miss Meriel’s visit to the pool had nothing to do with Miss Preston’s presence there, or with her death. She could have come and gone without seeing her. It is also possible that she did see Miss Preston and witnessed the fatality which caused her death. It is possible that she participated in it. It is possible that, herself unseen, she witnessed the participation of another person. I need not point out to you that, in such a case, she might be in a position of considerable danger.’

Adriana said abruptly, ‘Isn’t all this a little intense?’

Miss Silver gave a slight reproving cough.

‘There is sometimes such an intensification of the emotions of fear and resentment as to precipitate a tragic event.’

Adriana said harshly. ‘I should like to say “Rubbish!” ’

‘But you cannot?’

‘Not quite. What do you want me to do?’

Miss Silver said soberly,

‘Send Miss Meriel away on a visit and go away yourself. Let all this strain and emotion die down.’

There was a silence between them. When it had lasted a long time Adriana said,

‘I don’t think I’m very good at running away.’

Chapter Twenty-four

A pleasant evening could hardly be expected. There was too much that was discordant, apprehensive, and resentful in the thoughts of the six people who sat round the dinner-table and presently adjourned to the drawing-room. With the grey velvet curtains drawn and the grey carpet under foot, it was rather like being enclosed in a fog. Not the kind which steals close and takes your breath, but the watching kind which stands a little way off and waits. Time was when Adriana could have warmed and lightened it, but not tonight. She wore grey velvet with some dark fur on it, and matched the room too nearly. Silent during dinner, she remained throughout the evening without words to waste, a book on her knee which she did not appear to be reading, though every now and then she turned a page. When spoken to she made some brief reply and went back again into an abstracted silence.

Meriel had changed into what Miss Silver took to be the old green crape referred to slightingly by Adriana. In this artificial light it certainly had a dingy effect and did nothing to mitigate its wearer’s air of gloom. She herself was wearing the neat dark blue crêpe-de-chine which her niece Ethel Burkett had induced her to buy during that summer holiday a year ago. It had cost a great deal more than she was accustomed to pay, but Ethel had urged her, and Ethel had been right. ‘You really never will regret it, Auntie. Such good stuff and such good style. It will last you for years, and you will always feel and look well dressed.’ Brightened by the large gold locket which displayed a monogram of her parents’ initials in high relief and contained the treasured locks of their hair, she admitted to herself that it looked extremely well. She had sustained a gentle flow of conversation all through dinner. Now in the drawing-room she opened her knitting-bag and took out the large needles from which depended some three or four inches of the shawl designed for Dorothy Silver’s extra twin.

She had placed herself next to Mrs Geoffrey, who sat with an embroidery frame on her lap and plied a mechanical needle. When the coffee came in she drank two cups of it without milk and went back to her embroidery again. Her old black dress hung upon her and was unrelieved by so much as a brooch or a string of pearls. Her feet were placed side by side in a pair of old frayed shoes with a single strap. They had rather large steel buckles, and they were very much worn. One of the buckles was loose and moved whenever she did. It was evidently not her habit to use make-up. It would in fact have done very little, if anything, to mitigate that look of fatigue and strain. But she could still talk, and continued to do so. The small trivial details of day-to-day housekeeping in the country flowed from her pale, pinched lips.

‘Of course we grow our own vegetables, or I do not know what we should do. But it is no economy. On the contrary, Geoffrey worked it out once – and was it half-a-crown or three shillings that you reckoned every cabbage came to? Which was it, Geoffrey?’

Geoffrey Ford, on his feet by the coffee-tray, glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

‘My dear, I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about.’

Edna’s voice sharpened.

‘The cabbages – you worked it out once how much they cost – and of course the cauliflowers and all the other things as well. It was either half-a-crown or three-and-sixpence.’

He laughed.

‘I don’t think I ever got as far as working it out to the last pea! Naturally, home-grown vegetables are an extravagance, but what a pleasant one.’ He set down his cup. ‘Well, I must write some letters.’

Edna Ford put a stitch into the formal pattern of her embroidery and said,

‘Who are you writing to?’ Then, as he looked at her with a momentary flash of something very near dislike, she added quickly, ‘I was just thinking that if it was to Cousin William, you had better give him my love.’

‘And what makes you think I should be writing to William Turvey?’

Her hand shook.

‘I – just thought-’

‘It’s a bad habit.’

He went out of the room and shut the door. Meriel laughed.

‘Geoffrey and his letters!’ she said, and left it at that. Edna began to talk about the price of fish.

Janet and Ninian came in together. Their arrival distracted Meriel’s attention.

‘Your coffee will be cold. Where on earth have you been?’

It was Ninian who answered her.

‘We went up to say good-night to Stella.’

She said rudely, ‘She ought to be asleep!’

‘Oh, she was. So what?’ His voice was gay.

Janet had coloured a little. She looked young and rather sweet in her brown frock with the little old-fashioned pearl brooch fastening it. She said,

‘Star rang up. She won’t be back tonight.’

Meriel laughed.

‘Well, now you’re here, let’s do something! I’ll put on some records and we can dance.’

Ninian looked at Adriana. She lifted her eyes to his for a moment and turned a page. Oh, well, if that was the way she wanted it- But if Meriel thought he was going to dance with her all the time and leave Janet odd man out, she could think again.

Meriel had other ideas. She put down the record she had taken and turned to the door.

‘I’ll get Geoffrey back. It’s nonsense his going off to write letters. Besides, does anyone believe in them? I don’t! Or perhaps Esmé Trent gives him a hand!’

She went out too quickly to see the displeased look which Adriana turned upon her.

Edna neither moved nor spoke. Her hands rested upon her embroidery frame, and just for a moment she closed her eyes. When she opened them again Miss Silver was addressing her.

‘How fortunate it is for Stella that there is this class at the Vicarage. The little girls there are about her own age?’

‘Jenny is a little older, and Molly a little younger.’

‘There is a little boy too, is there not?’

‘Not at the Vicarage.’

‘Indeed? But he lives quite near?’

‘Quite near.’

Adriana looked up from her book and said in her decided way,

‘He lives with his mother in the lodge of that big empty house nearly opposite the Vicarage. She is a widow – a Mrs Trent. She neglects the child, and we don’t care for her very much.’

If this was meant to save Edna Ford it had the opposite effect. She spoke in a shaking voice.

‘She is a wicked woman – a horribly wicked woman. We ought not to have her in the house.’ Her pale eyes stared at Adriana. ‘You shouldn’t have asked her to your party. It was quite, quite wrong. She is an immoral woman.’