The poor man was indeed in a pitiable state. He poured out his troubles to us, encouraged by Suzanne’s sympathetic murmurs. (She does that sort of thing very well.)

“First a perfectly strange woman has the impertinence to get herself murdered in my house⁠—on purpose to annoy me, I do believe. Why my house? Why, of all the houses in Great Britain, choose the Mill House? What harm had I ever done the woman that she must needs get herself murdered there?”

Suzanne made one of her sympathetic noises again and Sir Eustace proceeded in a still more aggrieved tone.