Then, content with his arrangements, he went softly down the wide staircase and let himself out into the garden.
Meggie was waiting for him. He caught a glimpse of her red-gold hair against the dark green of the shrubbery. She was dressed in green, and despite his preoccupation with the affairs on hand, he noticed how very much it suited her.
‘Anne is just coming,’ she said, ‘I expect her any moment. I hope it’s something important you want to ask her. I don’t think she’ll relish getting up just to see the sun rise.’
Abbershaw looked dubious.
‘I’m afraid that didn’t occur to me,’ he said. ‘It is important, as it happens, although it may not sound so.’
The girl moved a step closer to him.
‘I told you,’ she said, looking up into his face. ‘Tell me. What are the developments?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, ‘. . . yet. There’s only one thing I can tell you, and that will be common property by breakfast-time. Colonel Coombe is dead.’
The girl caught her breath sharply, and looked at him with fear in her brown eyes.
‘You don’t mean he was . . . ?’ She broke off, not using the word.