“I heard something this morning that I can hardly believe—an accusation against you. That you’ve been using your position here to act as one of the police spies who’ve been keeping tab on Sybil.”
The boy looked at him with impenetrable eyes and answered in the same lowered key:
“Who told you that?”
“She did. She accuses you of having come here with that intention, got the job knowing that no outsiders were to be allowed on the island.”
Bassett was certain he had paled under his tan, but his face retained a masklike passivity.
“Sounds as if she might be losing her mind.”
“You deny it?”
The boy gave a scornful shrug:
“Of course I deny it. I shouldn’t think it would be necessary to ask that. She’s had a down on me for some time—everybody’s seen it, snapping and snarling at me for nothing—and I suppose she wants to get an excuse for it.”
“She says she came upon you examining a letter of hers, holding it up to the light. And three days ago she found you in her room looking over the papers in her desk.”