She nodded for more. She knew that.
“Has he—killed anyone?” she whispered.
“He looked uncommonly like trying,” said Sir Peter.
She nodded, her lips tightly compressed.
“Says Douglas will either have to leave the house or he does.”
“But—Douglas!”
“I know, but he won’t hear a word.”
“But why Douglas?”
“I tell you he’s as mad as a hatter. Got persecution mania. People tapping and bells ringing under his pillow all night—that sort of idea.... And furious. I tell you,—he frightened me. He was awful. He’s given Mergleson a black eye. Hit him, you know. With his fist. Caught him in the passage to the priest hole—how they got there I don’t know—and went for him like a madman.”
“But what has Douglas done?”