Janet presented an even more untidy appearance than usual, and showed a tendency to cry. Though she had not herself liked Wally Carter, and knew very well that he had been a most unsatisfactory husband, stepfather and guardian, she apparently expected Mary to be heartbroken at his death, and asked her anxiously if she had been able to cry.
"No," said Mary. "I mean, I don't want to cry."
"It's the shock," said Janet. "I expect you're numbed. I know so well what you're feeling, and if only you could break down and cry you'd be better!"
It was clearly impossible to tell Janet that though shock might be present, grief was not, so Mary merely murmured something unintelligible, and tried not to look as uncomfortable as she felt.
Janet gave her hand a squeeze that conveyed both, sympathy and understanding, and stated: "You want me to tell you exactly what happened."
Mary agreed, and Janet at once launched into her story, decorating it with such a wealth of detail that the main thread was more than once in danger of being lost in the tangle. The information that Samuel Jones had been asked to tea to meet Wally brought a frown to Mary's brow, and she interrupted to say: "Do you mean the man who owns the store in Fritton?"
"Yes, that's the man. Somehow I can't like him, but he can't be as bad as Alan says, because after all he's a Town Councillor, and I mean to say, he wouldn't be, would he? Oh dear, I can't bear to think of it! You just don't know how awful it was, all day, Mary! Because Alan quarrelled with Father at lunch, and rushed out of the house without finishing his pudding, simply because Mr. Jones was coming to tea. And I made some scones, but of course we didn't eat them, and a brand new kettle was ruined, and naturally I couldn't replace it on a Sunday, and Florence had a dreadful time trying to make tea for breakfast in a saucepan, because I need hardly tell you, my dear, that I discovered that the other kettle had a hole in it, and she'd never told me! I'm afraid Father had to wait for his breakfast, and he particularly wanted it at a quarter to eight, so that he could be at the office early. And Alan never came home to supper last night, and when I asked him this morning what he'd beenn doing, he simply bit my head off! So what with Father being cross, and Alan worse, I've had an awful time. And, you know, when one has seen Death for the first time, it does upset one, only neither Father nor Alan seem to realise what I've been through in the least!"
She burst into tears, and Mary had considerable difficulty in soothing her. When she had at last succeeded, and had also managed to persuade her to go home by the garden-way, in order to escape any reporter who might be lurking by the front gates, she discovered that Robert Steel had arrived, and was waiting to speak to her before presenting himself to Ermyntrude.
She took him at once into the library, and shut the door. "There's something I've got to tell you, Robert," she said.
"You told me last night," he replied. "That butler of yours heard what I said to you yesterday. I've already had a visit from the police."