“And sure and ever since she landed here from England, sir.”
“Roberts is an Englishwoman?”
“Hold your whisht, sir, and I’ll tell you that she’s of the aristocracy, no less.”
Lieutenant Valcour considered this gravely. It was not improbable. Many English families were utterly wrecked financially by the war, and the children had scattered whither they could, like sparrows, in search of bread. “You’re sure of this?” he said.
“And indeed it is common knowledge, sir. The housekeeper herself, it was, who told me.”
Lieutenant Valcour switched suddenly. “I wonder whether you could tell me who Mr. Endicott’s intimate friends were,” he said.
“Well, sir, there’s quite a few people have called on the madam off and on, and a few on Mr. Endicott, too. I couldn’t say, though, as to just how intimate.”
“But didn’t he ever discuss his friends?”
“Not before me, sir. I’m one of the downstairs girls. Perhaps Roberts would know. She’s often in the room with the madam and Mr. Endicott even when the pair of them is quarrelling that hard that—Glory be to—”
“Tut, tut,” said Lieutenant Valcour gently. “Married couples are always quarrelling together. There’s nothing unusual in that.”
“Indeed and there ain’t.”
“I wonder whether you’d ask Roberts to come out here and see me.”
“I will, sir.”