“Then it may interest you to know that we find the place in admirable condition.”
Perkins seemed unimpressed, took a slow glance round the room, and disappeared. Nor did Mr. Jarrad appear to expect any reply. Dawkins did not speak but whistled softly. Since the history of this room had been unfolded, it had become rather oppressive, and the sudden advent of this strange woman added mysteriously to his uncomfortable sensations. He experienced a swift longing for light and air. Mr. Jarrad had crossed to the fireplace and was staring at an oil portrait over the hearth. Presently he stroked his long chin.
“That woman, I believe, came here soon after Mr. Millicent first came. She was here when he died, then stayed with the Thursbys during their occupancy, took charge of the house when they decided they had had enough; and, Dawkins, I don’t mind betting she’ll stay with your clients too, as long as they stay.”
Dawkins gave an involuntary shiver. “What holds her in such a lonely place?”
“Every house has its secret,” said Mr. Jarrad.
At this moment quick steps sounded in the hall, there was an echo of a young, strong voice, and the new tenant of Beech Lodge entered the room. Dawkins jumped up, while Mr. Jarrad assumed an air of professional dignity.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said. “My colleague and I have just finished our work, and you will be glad to know that all is in excellent order. You may be assured that your interests have been well looked after.”
Derrick, a tall young man with restless eyes, nodded casually. He did not seem much impressed, being busy with a swift scrutiny of the study. The mellow paneling, big fireplace, wide oak-planked floor, the large, companionable desk, and the French window opening to the smooth lawn all gave it an atmosphere at once restful and intimate. He felt as though he could turn out good stuff here. Then he nodded contentedly.
“Thanks very much, but I think you’d better see Miss Derrick about these things.”
Mr. Jarrad and Dawkins made two stiff little bows which were absurdly alike and gathered up their papers. Derrick, left alone, moved automatically to the fireplace and stood staring at the oil portrait. He was in this attitude when his sister entered, short, alert, and businesslike. He glanced at her with a slow, provocative smile.