“Was Mrs. Herne there?”
There was an effect of withdrawal. He wondered whether she was going to answer him.
In the end she said, “Yes, I think so,” and went out of the room.
Chapter 31
IT was a little later that Miss Silver, who had been looking for Sally Foster, came upon her in what had once been a schoolroom. Lucius Bellingdon had taken it over as it was when he bought the house. But Moira Herne had never done her lessons here. She had gone to an expensive school selected by Lily Bellingdon, and the Victorian atmosphere had remained intact. Two of the walls were lined with books. There was a Turkey carpet on the floor, and a large pale green globe on a mahogany stand. There were old comfortable chairs and a practical table. Sally had come here for refuge. You can’t stay in your bedroom when the maids have to get in and do it. She wanted to get away from the others, and very particularly she wanted to get away from Moira Herne. She didn’t know what to do, and she had to think.
She stood at the window looking out for a time, then turned and began to wander along the shelves, picking up a book here and there and looking at it. There were bound volumes of an old magazine called Good Words. There was an old bound Punch with pictures of about the time of the Crimean War-elegant young men with long trailing whiskers, and girls with flowing skirts and little turned down collars. She put it back and looked at the upper shelves. Novels by Charlotte Yonge- The Heir of Redclyffe, The Pillars of the House. The Channings and East Lynne by Mrs. Henry Wood. Charles Kingsley-Sermons, Hypatia, and Westward Ho. Mrs. Markham’s History of England. Miss Strickland’s Lives of the Queens.
She was putting back a volume with rather a charming engraving of Joanna of Navarre, when the door opened and Miss Silver came into the room with a flowered knitting-bag on her arm. Just for a moment Sally had the feeling that she really was back in the past. Here was the old schoolroom, here were the old books. Miss Silver might so easily have been the governess for whom these things were waiting. She would sit down at the table and teach from Mrs. Markham’s history.
Miss Silver smiled.
“You are looking at the old books, Miss Foster?”
Sally said, “Yes,” and with the spoken word the past receded and the trouble in her thought was back upon her.
Miss Silver came up to her and put a hand on her arm.
“One cannot really talk standing up. Shall we sit down?”
“Are we going to talk?”
She received an encouraging smile.
“Oh, yes, my dear, I think so. These chairs are shabby but comfortable.”
It was not until they were seated that she went on, and not then until she had taken a half-finished baby’s bootee out of the flowered bag and begun to knit, her hands held low in her lap, her eyes fixed on Sally’s face in the kindest and most attentive manner. The atmosphere was cosy and soothing, Miss Silver’s voice agreeable in the extreme, but her words made Sally jump.
“I should like to talk to you about the return of Mr. Bellingdon’s diamond necklace.”
If Sally was startled, it was because she had a rather horrid feeling that the ground had opened in front of her, and that perhaps everything was going to begin sliding again. She said,
“You want to talk to me?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“I should like to ask you why the return of the necklace alarmed you so much.”
“Alarmed me?”
Listening to her own faltering words, Sally thought they were enough to make anyone think that she had stolen the necklace herself.
Miss Silver was knitting briskly.
“You were so much alarmed that you were ready to faint. Mr. Moray noticed it and brought you some coffee. He also took your hand and held it, and when you had drunk some of the coffee the faintness passed.”
Sally said, “Oh-” She wasn’t at all sure that it wasn’t coming on again. She leaned her head against the back of the chair and saw Miss Silver lay her knitting down upon her lap and dip into her knitting-bag, coming up with a small round box of Tonbridge ware. It had an inlaid pattern on the lid, and it unscrewed. She was unscrewing it now and holding it out to Sally.
“Pray take an acid drop, Miss Foster. You will find it very refreshing. It is, I believe, practically impossible to faint while one is sucking an acid drop, and it would be exceedingly inconvenient for both of us if you were to faint just now. There is also not the slightest reason for you to do so.”
Sally found herself taking what Miss Silver had called an acid drop. The lemon flavour was certainly strong, and whether for that reason, or because of the practical course which the conversation seemed to be taking, she no longer felt as if everything was sliding away. She said,
“I don’t faint-ever.”
Miss Silver had resumed her knitting.
“It is not a practice to be commended. And now, my dear, what frightened you at breakfast this morning? No, wait a moment before you answer. It was something to do with the arrival of the parcel which contained the necklace. It gave you a shock which almost caused you to faint-and as you have just told me, you are not in the habit of fainting. I need not remind you that the necklace was taken from a murdered man. If the circumstances of its return have given you any clue to the identity of the murderer, you will be in no doubt as to your duty.”
The words “no doubt” impinged on Sally’s ear in an ironic manner. She was full of doubts. They blew about in her mind like veering winds, scattering her thoughts as if they were fallen leaves and making it impossible for her to order them. She looked at Miss Silver and said,
“No doubt?”
Miss Silver’s answer was firm.
“I believe that you can have none.”
After she had been silent for a little Sally said,
“You see, I know who you are.”
“Yes, my dear?”
“I have a flat in Miss Paine’s house-at least it was her house. David and I were helping her when she rang up Mrs. Moray to get your address, and when she rang up to ask you to see her. She didn’t tell us why-but you can’t help wondering-” Her voice trailed away.
Miss Silver’s needles clicked.
“You wondered whether her death had anything to do with the theft of the necklace and the murder of Mr. Hughes?”
Sally nearly swallowed the acid drop. She sat bolt upright and exclaimed,
“But it couldn’t-I mean, the necklace hadn’t been stolen then-it wasn’t until next day!”
Miss Silver turned the blue bootee.
“Miss Paine came to see me because she had seen two men meet in the Masters gallery. She saw them meet, and she saw one of them speak to the other. Owing to her proficiency in lip-reading she came into possession of evidence with regard to a crime which was being planned between these two men. She left the gallery and tried to think what she ought to do. She was very doubtful how her story would be received if she went to the police. She went back to the gallery, but the men had gone their separate ways. As you no doubt know, Mr. Moray’s portrait of Miss Paine was on exhibition in the gallery. Unfortunately, as I believe for Miss Paine, one of the two men who was looking in her direction and whose share in a compromising conversation she had been able to read noticed the portrait and identified her with it. It is, of course, the portrait purchased by Mr. Bellingdon and entitled The Listener. The caretaker at the gallery, who is inclined to be talkative, poured out the whole history of the picture and of Miss Paine, mentioning that she was stone-deaf, but that no one would ever guess it because she was so good at lip-reading. The man to whom this information was given was the prospective murderer. He must have been considerably alarmed and have tried to recall just what information Miss Paine could have acquired. He would have had no difficulty in obtaining her address from the caretaker, since Mr. Moray was residing in her house. I believe that this man, who had already planned a cold-blooded murder, did not hesitate to take steps which would prevent Miss Paine from becoming a possible danger. I think she was followed when she came to see me, and again when she left me, this time most unfortunately on foot. As you know, she met with an accident which I cannot regard as fortuitous.”