"I will."
"Yes," said Anthony, suddenly gloomy. "But if you were staying at the manor you wouldn't be able to. The whole place is stiff with mystery."
"Oh?" said Frank. "Why?"
"Damned if I know. There isn't anything you could put your finger on, so to speak, but it's there all right. For one thing there's Brother Basil." He lowered his voice confidentially. "Between ourselves, he's a bit of a dud. I've got no time for him at all. Bit awkward as things are. If it weren't for Joan I don't mind telling you you wouldn't catch me staying at Norton Manor."
"Because of its mystery or because of its host?"
"Bit of both. Mind you, I don't say there's anything wrong with the house. It's the people in it. Like a lot of cats snooping round in the dark. Look here, don't repeat this, but it's an absolute fact that you can't do a darned thing but what you get the feeling that you are being watched. It's getting a bit on my nerves."
"Are you being watched?"
"I don't know. Shouldn't be surprised. Brother Basil's got a valet who's always popping up out of nowhere. Another one of the leftovers from the old regime. Now if he'd been murdered I shouldn't complain. Nasty piece of work, I think, and so does Joan, but Brother Basil likes the fellow."
"What, by the way, is wrong with Brother Basil?" asked Frank.
"Wrong with him? Oh, I see what you mean. I don't know: sort of fellow who drinks his bath water. Damned bad-tempered - I don't mind telling you Joan has a pretty thin time of it with him. Full of spurious joie de vivre, don't you know? One of these hearty blokes. Calls you old boy and slaps you on the back."