“Nobody can go into the house, do you hear that? Fairly sick of you reporters, I am. Sir Eustace’s orders are⁠—”

“I understood the house was to let,” I said freezingly, holding out my order. “Of course, if it’s already taken⁠ ⁠…”

“Oh, I’m sure I beg your pardon, miss. I’ve been fairly pestered with these newspaper people. Not a minute’s peace. No, the house isn’t let⁠—nor likely to be now.”

“Are the drains wrong?” I asked in an anxious whisper.

“Oh, Lord, miss, the drains is all right! But surely you’ve heard about that foreign lady as was done to death here?”

“I believe I did read something about it in the papers,” I said carelessly.

My indifference piqued the good woman. If I had betrayed any interest, she would probably have closed up like an oyster. As it was, she positively bridled.

“I should say you did, miss! It’s been in all the newspapers. The Daily Budget ’s out still to catch the man who did it. It seems, according to them, as our police are no good at all. Well, I hope they’ll get him⁠—although a nice-looking young fellow he was and no mistake. A kind of soldierly look about him⁠—ah, well, I dare say he’d been wounded in the war, and sometimes they go a bit queer afterwards, my sister’s boy did. Perhaps she’d used him bad⁠—they’re a bad lot, those foreigners. Though she was a fine-looking woman. Stood there where you’re standing now.”

“Was she dark or fair?” I ventured. “You can’t tell from these newspaper portraits.”

“Dark hair, and a very white face⁠—too white for nature, I thought, and her lips reddened something cruel. I don’t like to see it⁠—a little powder now and then is quite another thing.”