"On Christmas Eve!" Joseph groaned, as though he found this an added torture. "Oh, Paula, Paula!"
She flashed round upon him. "Why do you say that? Do you suppose I had anything to do with this?"
"Oh, my dear, no!" he said, shocked. "Of course you didn't!"
"Who did? Have you any idea?"
"I can't think, my dear. It's too hideous! I try to realise it, to pull myself together -"
"This house! This wicked, horrible house!" She burst out, looking wildly round. "You laughed at me when I told you it was evil!"
"My dear, you're overwrought!" he said, looking somewhat taken aback. "The house can't have killed poor Nat!"
"Its influence! Acting on us all, impelling one of us -"
"Hush, Paula, hush!" he said. "That's nonsense! There, my poor child, there! Come away! It isn't fit for you to be here." He put his arm round her, and felt how tense she was, yet trembling a little.
"It wasn't one of us," she said, speaking with difficulty. "It couldn't have been. Someone through the window - robbery, perhaps. The door was locked!"