Lily looked at the speaker, astonished at her state of agitation. The Countess Polda’s face looked terrible under the bright, auburn-brown hair on her “front.” Her hands were trembling. Even her voice seemed changed—it was as if she had lost control over it.
“Come in! Come in!” she cried impatiently, and yet she herself had been blocking the door.
Lily walked through into the drawing-room, and she saw that the Count, who also looked disturbed, though much less so than his wife, was sitting at his green baize card-table, apparently affixing his name to some kind of paper.
Opposite to him stood a man of about forty. The stranger had a pleasant, keen face, and though he was not in uniform, Lily felt sure he had come from M. Bouton. Somehow, she could hardly have told why, the sight of him reassured her.
“Come, come,” he said good-humouredly, “you must not allow this to disturb you so much, Madame la Comtesse. Desperate men are not likely to show much delicacy, even to those who have been kind to them. We are very glad indeed that the body has been found. My chief said to me only two hours ago that he owed a great debt to the young English lady.”
“The young English lady?” repeated the Countess. “Whom do you mean?”
“It was this lady, was it not, who found the body?” he replied, looking at Lily.
“Yes, I found the body,” Lily answered falteringly, for the Countess was now looking at her with a fearful expression of questioning anger on her face.
The man went on: “M. Bouton is most grateful to this young lady for having come and told him at once, to-day. But for Mademoiselle, the body of this man, Ponting, might have lain there a whole year! As you of course know, M. le Comte, that piece of property which lies just below your own orange grove belongs to that eccentric Sir John Cranion.”
“I know,” said the Count, looking up, “for I myself have tried to buy the property more than once. I wish more than ever now that I had done so, for we should have had it properly enclosed, and then this tragedy could not have happened there.”