“Oh, I see!” Hannasyde said. “Never mind, then: it doesn't much matter.”
Edward Rumbold, rejoining the family in the library, made no mention of his conversation with the Superintendent, but merely said that Hannasyde had not told him when he expected to receive the analyst's report.
“What does it matter?” Stella said impatiently. “What's the use of blinking facts? We know she was poisoned!”
“My dear child, we do not know anything of the sort,” said Mrs Matthews. “Please try to control yourself !”
“Why did you pretend you couldn't remember who had washed that medicine-glass?” Stella demanded. “Mother, why?”
Mrs Matthews arranged her pleats again. “Really, Stella!” she protested. “I should have thought you must have known that my memory is not my strongest point. I have had far more important things to think about today than who washed up a glass.”
“You always do it yourself ! You told me so!”
“Very well, dear, no doubt I did wash it, then. It is not a very vital matter, after all.”
Stella was silenced, and turned away. Guy said, as though he had been rehearsing it: “I suppose you know that Aunt Harriet's money comes to me?”
“Money!” said Mrs Matthews sharply. “She had none to speak of. Don't be so foolish, Guy! And I don't think it's quite nice of you, dear boy, to think about what poor Harriet may or may not have left you when she's only been dead —”