"What part of India were you stationed in?" Peter asked. "I've got a cousin who's just had the luck to be sent to Wellington."
"Oh, I've been all over the place," the Colonel answered. "But I didn't come here to talk about India, young man. Out with it! Did you know the police thought it was murder?"
"Now then, sir, you ought to know better than to try and drag information out of us," Charles said. "Of course I need hardly say that the police perceiving at once that we had missed our vocations, entrusted us with all their secrets. In fact, we're considering entering the force on the strength of it."
"Yes, yes, but you needn't be so close," the Colonel said. "What I can't understand is, who in the world should want to murder that French fellow? Seemed harmless enough, I always thought."
"I've got a theory about it," said Charles, helping himself to a cucumber sandwich. "Who knows but what he may have possessed an oleander hawk-moth? We are all aware that Mr. Titmarsh is expending untold energy in his pursuit of this elusive specimen. Very well, then. He found that Duval had one, and so…'
"Really, Chas, I don't think you ought to joke about it," Celia said. "It's not exactly decent."
"Well, why was he in your grounds?" the Colonel asked, not to be put off. "Was that what he came up to see you about Saturday evening? You know, you're being quite maddening, and it's my belief you know a lot more than you pretend."
"Of course I do," said Charles. "Didn't I say so?"
"Oh, I give you up!" the Colonel said hopelessly. "All I can say is, I hope it hasn't given you a distaste for the Priory."
"Not at all," Charles said, demolishing another sandwich. "Why should it?"