“Mother thought most highly of him,” she went on. “But it now appears that for the past few weeks she has had suspicions that her letters were being tampered with, for two cheques sent by tenants for rent have been stolen.”
“I never thought very much of him,” I said.
“Neither did I,” she declared. “He had such a silent, cunning way, and moved so softly, that dozens of times when I have turned suddenly I have been quite startled to find him standing close to me. I’m glad mother has got rid of him. She packed him off bag and baggage.”
“Did he protest his innocence?”
“No. He treated her with cool indifference, placed his things in his portmanteau leisurely, hailed a cab, and went off without asking for his wages.”
I was silent. The reason Renouf should descend to steal cheques was inexplicable. One thing, however, appeared clear, namely, that he had taken an unusual interest in the nature of Mrs Laing’s correspondence. To me it was a matter for congratulation that as he had been detected by his mistress and discharged, he could not cast upon me the blame for his betrayal.
“What did you do after lunch?” I at last inquired, returning to my charge.
“I went shopping,” she replied, smiling.
“With whom?”
“Alone.”