He sat down with a vast relief. It seemed strange that in the midst of this deadly game such matters as food and cooking should proceed uninterrupted. It was Perkins’s work, Perkins, who, outwardly undisturbed by that which must have shaken her very spirit, was still the perfect servant, the ageless domestic automaton. He knew that Edith did not want him to look at the woman, but could not refrain from quick cursory glances at moments when she could not detect them. There was really no difference, except that the sallow cheeks had a faint color, and the lips were a shade less grim than usual. For the rest of it her face was still a mask, her figure just as unbending, her movements just as measured and deliberate. But what secret thoughts must be traversing that unlocked mind, what emotions stirring in her breast! And through it all she seemed not to know that he was there.
Later, in the study, he filled his pipe, shot a contented glance at Millicent’s portrait, took the jade god from his pocket, and set it on the desk where so often it had glimmered before. Edith scanned it with an interest she had never displayed till this evening, and sank comfortably into a big chair.
“Well,” she said curiously, “aren’t you going to tell me anything about it?”
“Yes, dear, everything.” He paused for a moment. “First of all, the thing is practically over, except another inquest and what will naturally follow that.”
“The last thing I saw was that poor man being carried to the cottage. Then that nice constable came up and talked to me as though I were six years old. I did like that. But there was no real information in it.”
Derrick laughed. “I’m afraid I did that.”
“I thought you had. Did you notice any difference in Perkins at dinner? Isn’t her control amazing?”
“Not much, except that she seemed in a way less grim.”
“Of course she is. She must have suspected the peddler all along, and when she saw him carried off like that one can imagine what she felt—at least one could if it weren’t Perkins.” She hesitated. “Is he dead?” she asked gravely.
He nodded. “The life seemed to go out of him when he was struggling with the constable. Peters said he put something in his mouth—which was no doubt poison.”