“Well, he is,” Loveday admitted. “Bart’s got a warm heart, and it hurts him bad to think of Mr Ray’s killing Mr Penhallow. It’s like he was being torn two ways, and he’s not one as has known trouble, my Bart. But leave me get him away from Trevellin, and I know I can make him feel better about it all. Then there’s Mr Con. Bart won’t come next or nigh him, and it doesn’t make things easier, the pair of them living under the same roof at daggers drawn, as they say.”
Faith lifted a hand to shade her eyes. “Even the twins!” she said. “Everything spoiled for them too!”
“Well, it was bound to be different, once Bart and I were man and wife,” Loveday said sensibly. “Mr Con’s that jealous, you see. But give him time, and he’ll come round, and my Bart’s not one to bear malice, I’ll say that for him, bless him! I was thinking you should go away from here as soon after the funeral as you can, my dear, for I’ll have to be leaving you, and you wouldn’t be comfortable here with me gone.”
“Oh, Loveday, no! You mustn’t leave me!”
“Yes, but I must,” Loveday said gently. “Bart needs me, and my duty’s to him. He’ll go crazy if he’s kept hanging about here, where every stick and stone reminds him of them that have gone. But I’ll make him happy, never fear!”
“I hope you will,” Faith said wistfully. “I think I could bear it better if l knew that it hasn’t ruined everything for him. Have the police been up? What — what have they been doing downstairs?”
As Loveday had been shut up for the greater part of the time with Bart, she was unable to give Faith much information on this point, so as soon as the supper-tray had been removed from her knees Faith asked her to beg Mrs Eugene to come up and see her, if she had not already gone to bed.
In a few minutes, Vivian tapped at the door, and entered. She said awkwardly that she hoped Faith was feeling much better, and offered to extinguish her cigarette, if the smoke bothered her.
Faith shook her head. “No. Please sit down! It was so stupid of me to faint like that. I want to know — I want to know what has been happening.”
“Well, nothing very much, really,” replied Vivian, pulling up a chair. “Dinner was pretty ghastly, I thought. Ingram took possession of Ray’s place, which made it seem even more ghoulish, and Char held forth as usual, until one wanted to scream. You know, Faith, it’s a funny thing, but I used to think that nothing could be as awful as those evenings we all had to spend in Mr Penhallow’s room, but ever since he was killed, everything has been ten times worse. It seems absurd to say so, but I almost feel as though I should be thankful if I woke up, and found that none of it had ever happened.”