“Just to create a diversion,” said Randall sweetly. “But I'll discuss Aunt Harriet's death instead if you prefer it. When and how did she die?”
Mrs Matthews shuddered. “I am sorry, Randall. I am afraid I can't bring myself to talk about it.”
“Then my little cousin Stella shall tell me all about it,” said Randall, and turned to her. “Would you like to drive slowly round the heath, my pet, and unburden yourself to me?”
“All right,” Stella said, after a moment's hesitation. “You've got to know, anyway. I'll go and put a hat on.”
Guy looked up quickly. “Look here, Stella —” he began, and then stopped, uncertain how to proceed.
Randall said kindly: “You mustn't be shy of me, little cousin. Naturally you want to warn her not to say anything indiscreet.”
This left Guy without a word to say. He glared at Randall, who smiled and opened the door for Stella to pass out.
She did not keep him waiting long while she put on her hat, but soon came out to the car, and got in beside him. “Thank God to be out of it for half-an-hour!” she said. “It's absolutely awful, Randall.”
“Yes, I didn't flatter myself you came for the pleasure of my company,” he returned, letting in the clutch.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.”