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“And that made you suspect her?” She did not reply for a moment. Then she said, “I thought she was rather more agitated than she need have been, and there was the co
“And you did not really suspect Scilla Repton. Why?” Again she was silent for a moment. She finished her cup of tea and set it back upon the tray.
“There was the question of the cocoa, and then-these things are difficult to put into words. There are impressions so slight, so indefinite, that one is scarcely aware of them, yet as one constantly succeeds another a picture is built up. Mrs. Repton struck me as unaware of being in any danger. She was conscious of having offended against the moral law, and aggressively impatient of that law and of the consequences which this breach was bringing down upon her. But she did not seem to me to be at all aware of any possible relation between herself and the criminal law, or of the consequences which it might have in store. She was brazening out the exposure of her intrigue with Mr. Earle, she was angry and resentful over the change in her husband’s will, and she was a good deal more shocked at his death than she was willing to admit. She was in fact a vain, selfish, idle and undisciplined young woman who found herself in uncongenial surroundings and snatched at anything which would alleviate her boredom, but in my opinion she would not have gone out of her way to write the anonymous letters, and she would not have poisoned her husband. And, as everyone is now aware, she did not do so.”
“And there was no one else at the Manor who could have filled the bill?”
“Oh, no. Miss Maggie is a gentle person, not very strong, not very efficient, but full of kindness, and Valentine Grey is a very charming girl. There is a good deal of sweetness in her character, and her principles are good.”
He laughed.
“Well, she’ll need the sweetness. Jason is an odd fish.”
Miss Silver smiled indulgently.
“They have known one another from childhood and are very deeply attached.”
“Well, so much for James Barton and the Manor. That left you with the occupants of three more houses.”
She shook her head reprovingly.
“Oh, no-with only two. The third house would be the Croft, and Co
Frank Abbott said,
“There were two suicides then. Miss Wayne should have told what she knew.”
Miss Silver had picked up her knitting. The rich red of Ethel Burkett’s cardigan lay in her lap, the green needles moved briskly. She said,
“Three lives would have been saved had she done so, all good, all useful. But few people are prepared to subordinate their private feelings to their public duty.”
Memorizing this as a vintage example of what he irreverently termed Maudie’s Moralities, Frank brought a lighter tone to the conversation by enquiring after the health of the cat Abimelech.
“I don’t know how many of his nine lives he had used up already, but the gas cupboard must have drawn pretty heavily on any that remained.”
Miss Silver smiled.
“He is the youngest of the cats, which accounts for his having been so foolish as to be lured through the hedge by the offer of a piece of mackerel, a fish of which he is inordinately fond. Miss Renie is very proud of the ma
“You called on Barton? My dear ma’am, you don’t mean to say he let you in!”
Miss Silver smiled benignantly.
“He did indeed. He made me a most excellent cup of tea and introduced all the cats.”