‘So you have come at last!’ said Mrs Askerton. ’Till I got your message I thought there was to be some dreadful misfortune.’
‘What misfortune?’
’Something dreadful! One often anticipates something very bad without exactly knowing what. At least, I do. I am always expecting a catastrophe when I am alone that is and then I am so often alone.’
‘That simply means low spirits, I suppose?’
‘It’s more than that, my dear.’
‘Not much more, I take it.’
’Once when we were in India we lived close to the powder magazine, and we were always expecting to be blown up. You never lived near a powder magazine.’
’No, never unless there’s one at Belton. But I should have thought that was exciting.’
’And then there was the gentleman who always had the sword hanging over him by the horse’s hair.’
‘What do you mean, Mrs Askerton?’
’Don’t look so innocent, Clara. You know what I mean. What were the results at last of your cousin’s diligence as a detective officer?’
’Mrs Askerton, you wrong my cousin greatly. He never once mentioned your name while he was with us. He did not make a single allusion to you, or to Colonel Askerton, or to the cottage.’
‘He did not?’
‘Never once.’
’Then I beg his pardon. But not the less has he been busy making inquiries.’
’But why should you say that there is a powder magazine, or a sword hanging over your head?’
‘Ah, why?’