“I am afraid I cannot, they do not interest me in the least,” he said easily. “Well, to resume about good old Dobbs. In the evenings when he was clearing the dinner things, we used to have long chats together, a drop of whisky set his tongue going nineteen to the dozen, and he told me lots of things about Brinkstone people.”
“Must have been very interesting, I’m sure,” said the lady, with something like a snort. She helped herself to another glass of port, but did not offer one to Sellars.
“It was extremely interesting,” agreed Sellars in his calm, placid way. “I don’t know when I ever listened to a more delightful recital of village annals. I heard all about the rather lurid doings of that remarkable family, the Brookeses, the father and the three brothers of whom Sir George is now the sole survivor. And equally absorbing, the history of Miss Larchester and her derelict father, and last the story of your arrival at Brinkstone and your subsequent friendship with the young lady in question. Old Dobbs had a great tenderness for her, he used to grow quite lyrical in his descriptions.”
“You went down there, of course, to spy out all this,” remarked Miss Buckley in contemptuous tones. “I take it you are really a detective, although I must say you haven’t got the cut of one. Well, Mr. Sellars, what is it you want with me? Please come to the point.”
“I am not exactly a detective, not professionally I mean, only just a rather curious person. I am very anxious to know something of the career of your pretty friend Miss Larchester, after she left the little village.”
And then Miss Buckley spoke. It was evident she had been thinking pretty quickly while the young man was talking, and had made up her mind what sort of a story she was going to tell.
“I have known Sir George on and off since the Brinkstone days, he mixes a good deal with artists; I knew his nephew through him when he brought him over from Australia and adopted him. I met Lettice Larchester a few times in London—they seemed to be getting poorer and poorer. Then suddenly they drifted away and I never heard any more of her.”
Sellars was silent for a long time. “Then it comes to this,” he said presently, “you won’t tell me anything of your old friend.”
“I have nothing to tell,” said the woman obstinately.
“You do not know whether she is dead or alive?” persisted Sellars. “And if alive, whether she is married or single.”