“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.