"I'm sure I hope it may," responded Mrs. Dean. "But you know you can't afford to waste your time on penniless young writers, my pet, and I didn't quite like to see you being so friendly with him."
"Oh, Mummy, what absolute rot! As though I couldn't be friends with other men just because I'm engaged!"
"You must let Mother know best, my pet. You don't want to make Stephen jealous, now, do you?"
"I don't care," said Valerie sullenly. "Besides, I don't believe he would be. He simply pays no attention to me. The only person he's more or less decent to is that sickening Clare-woman. And she isn't even moderately good-looking, Mummy!"
"Is she the one who went off to church with Mrs. Herriard? Such manners! I wonder what Mrs. Herriard was before she was married? I'm sure my little girl has nothing to fear from anyone as plain as Miss Clare. You mustn't be silly, childie. I can see it's high time Mother came to keep an eye on you. I've no doubt you've been getting on the wrong side of Stephen. He isn't the sort you can play tricks with."
"Well, if it wasn't for being frightfully rich, I don't think I would marry Stephen," said Valerie, in a burst of frankness.
"Hush, dear! I suppose there's no doubt that Stephen will inherit all this?"
"Oh, I don't know, except that Uncle Joe practically told me he would! Only I simply couldn't live here all the year round, Mummy: I should go mad!"
"Time enough to think of that later." Mrs. Dean glanced round the room. "His uncle must have been worth a fortune. You don't run a place like this on two pence-ha'penny a year. But I don't like the sound of this murder, Val. Of course, we don't know, and very likely everything will turn out satisfactorily, but I couldn't let my girlie marry a murderer."
"I wouldn't be able to, would I?" asked Valerie, opening her lovely eyes very wide.