“That’s a strong thing to say of a woman who, at the worst, was only heartless and calculating, and, considering that I only knew her slightly and you not at all, it seems a good deal to assume,” Fayre reminded him. He was interested, in spite of himself, in the viewpoint of a man who could work himself up to such a pitch of resentment against a woman who, after all, was a stranger to him. His first instinct had been to drop the subject, but now he found himself trying to draw out the doctor.
“In my experience, it’s the stupid, greedy people who do the real harm in this world, not the wicked ones. The bad man works with an object and, once that’s gained, is usually content to let his neighbour alone. The stupid man blunders on in his imbecile way, leaving a trail of mischief behind him.”
“You would put down Mrs. Draycott as a stupid woman?”
Fayre had been struck himself by the dense strata of obtuseness that lay beneath Mrs. Draycott’s surface acuteness and he was surprised at the accuracy with which Gregg seemed to have diagnosed her.
“From what I hear, she was of the blunt-fingered, blunt-minded type and a born petty schemer. However, I may be wrong. I’m going by hearsay, you know.”
“It’s curious how people get hold of their information,” said Fayre thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose more than half a dozen people in this neighbourhood had ever met her.”
“They read their papers, though, and she’s been before the public more than once, you must remember. Also, the mere fact that she was Miss Allen’s sister would be enough to draw attention to her. After all, there was the Dare Case.”
“She was mixed up in that, was she? I’ve been out of England for so long that I’ve missed things.”
“She was called as a witness and came out of it pretty badly, as far as I can remember. I don’t read those things much myself.”
“All the same, you seem to have got your knife into her pretty thoroughly,” remarked Fayre dryly.