“You mean the servants know that Mr. Parrish and I were engaged ...”
Bude made a deprecatory gesture.
“Know, Miss? I wouldn’t go so far as to say ‘know.’ But there has been some talk in the servants’ ’all, Miss. You know what young female servants are, Miss ...”
“And you think that Mr. Greve went to Mr. Parrish to talk about ... me?”
Mary Trevert’s voice faltered a little. She looked eagerly at the other’s fat, smooth face.
“I presoomed as much, Miss, I must confess!”
“But what did you hear Mr. Greve say?”
“I heard nothing, Miss, except just only the sound of voices. After Mr. Greve had crossed me in the hall, I took the salver I was carrying into the butler’s pantry. I stayed there a minute or two, and then I remembered I had not collected the letters from the box in the hall for the chauffeur to take to the post, the same as he does every evening. I went back to the hall, and just as I opened the green baize door I heard voices from the library ...”
“Was it Mr. Greve’s voice?”
“I cannot say, Miss. It was just the sound of voices, rather loud-like. I caught the sound because the door leading from the hall to the library corridor was ajar. Mr. Greve must have forgotten to shut it.”