"Oh, ah; the candle. How did it come to go out?"
"The draught. Really it was! There's a strong draught blowing through there from the door downstairs when you
open the bedroom door."
"Yes. And afterwards?"
"Well — nothing. The sight-seeing party broke up. They all looked rather quiet and queer; but nobody said anything. That was some little time after eleven o'clock. Marcia was the only one who was as gay as ever. Louise and I were sent to bed by uncle. The rest of them went downstairs; I know they went out to the pavilion afterwards, because my bedroom window was open and I heard them."
"And none of you," said Masters, knocking his fist into his palm, "none of you saw anything at all odd in this?'
"No! Why should we? Marcia said… and she rather — I don't know how to express it ruled us. She was so attractive that you almost shivered when you looked at her; that dark skin and bright eyes and the way she dressed and everything. She had on a gown that my uncle would have killed me if I'd worn, but, I say, it was. And she was being very motherly towards me." The long eyelashes lowered a little, speculatively. "I think she heard what that man Rainger said to me."
"Yes?"
"Because she turned round. Then she dropped a silver brocade cloak she was wearing (lovely thing), and he jumped to pick it up. Then she looked at him in a funny way and said something."
"Did Miss Tait — um — did she seem to mind?'