"The Grey Lady? My dear, she's gone. Always used to walk the back stairs on third Fridays, and one night the servants left the lights on. She gave notice the next day. Wanted a change, I think. You see, she'd been in one place nearly two hundred years. Besides, the stairs were bad."
"It's a nice house, isn't it?"
"Pretty well. But it hasn't got a priest's hole."
"What does that matter?"
"Well, where are you going to keep the gorgonzolas?"
She leaned on the back of a chair and began to laugh helplessly. Presently:
"You wretched man!" she said. "I'm really awfully angry with you."
"I knew it."
"Be quiet. You've wasted my time here until it's too late for me to see The Grange, and what on earth I shall tell father I don't know."
"He's not outside?"