Guy turned a shade paler, and said: “For God's sake, mother, don't!”
“Of course, I know she was often very, very tiresome,” Mrs Matthews continued, “but one gets used to people, somehow. I can't imagine this house without her. I feel dreadfully upset.”
“Mother, what's the use of talking like that? Don't you realise? The police will be here at any minute! What are we going to tell them?”
Mrs Matthews looked at him in silence for a moment, and then said, more in her normal manner: “Dear boy, we shall tell them exactly what happened. We did everything we could, and you must remember that it is by no means proved that poor Harriet was poisoned. Personally I feel sure she had a stroke.”
Stella came into the room, still rather white, but quite calm. She stood on the threshold, and said: “Aunt Gertrude ought to be told. Shall I ring her up?”
“Darling, if only you would allow me to be quiet for just a little time!” her mother said. “You neither of you seem to think of what I must be feeling. We did not always agree, but Harriet and I —”
“Aunt Gertrude's her sister. She ought to be told,” Stella repeated.
Mrs Matthews made a gesture of resignation. “Tell anyone you please, only don't keep on worrying me when you can see how upset I am.”
Stella went out again, Mrs Matthews leaned her head in her hand and murmured: “I really don't think I feel up to seeing Gertrude. I believe I'll go to my room, and lie down.”
“You'll have to see her,” Guy answered. “She'll insist—she's bound to.”