Miss Silver was reflecting that the milk was spilled, and that it was no good crying over it. As Thomasina was here, she might as well stay. In point of fact, there was no way of dislodging her. She therefore smiled and said,

“I am not angry.”

Thomasina brightened.

“Peter was horrid,” she said. “And it isn’t his business what I do or where I go. He isn’t even a real relation-he is just Aunt Barbara’s husband’s nephew.”

Saying this seemed to put Peter in his place. It produced a glow of satisfaction-very heartening for the moment, but almost immediately succeeded by a horrid feeling that complete independence with no bothering relations and Peter a long way off was rather a chilly business. The glow faded, and she gave the kind of shiver that makes country people say that a goose is walking over your grave. She spoke quickly,

“Oh, I’ve got a message for you-I was nearly forgetting!”

“From Mr. Brandon? ’ ”

“Oh, no-from Detective Inspector Abbott. I went to see Mrs. Moray like you said, and he was there. He seems to know a lot of the sort of people you wouldn’t expect a policeman to know.”

“He has a great many friends.”

“He didn’t seem a bit like a policeman when he was at Mrs. Moray’s. He asked me out to dinner, and we went to the Luxe and danced. He dances very well.”

“I believe so.”

“That was one of the things that Peter was angry about. And it wasn’t his business. He hadn’t asked me himself, so why should he be angry because Frank Abbott did? I enjoyed myself very much. There was a girl called Daphne there who Frank said was his cousin. I liked her.”

“He has a great many cousins.”

“He said he started counting them once, and when he got up to a hundred he thought he had better stop-but of course that was nonsense.”

Miss Silver was unable to deny that Frank Abbott when off duty was given to talking nonsense. She had reproved him for it too often. She smiled indulgently and said,

“He gave you a message for me?”

“Yes, he did. He said it would be safer than writing. He said letters might be opened and I’d better post them myself and be careful what I said. And I said I shouldn’t be writing to anyone, because after the things Peter said-”

Miss Silver did not permit herself to be impatient. She gathered that Mr. Brandon had not behaved with tact, and that his remarks had considerably stiffened Thomasina’s determination to go down to Deep End and stay with the Miss Tremletts. When she had received a graphic account of the ensuing quarrel she said mildly,

“And Inspector Abbott’s message? Had you not better let me have it?”

Thomasina came back from some way off.

“Didn’t I? Oh, no-I got off on to Peter-I’m sorry. He wants-Frank, I mean, not Peter-he wants to see you. He wants you to meet him in Ledlington. Tomorrow. He says there’s a bus from Deeping that gets there just before three, and will you get off at the station, and he’ll pick you up in his car. He says you can ask for the afternoon off. If you don’t come, he’ll know you couldn’t make it. But he said to come if you can, because he really does want to see you.”

Miss Silver considered all this. To allow any connection between herself and Scotland Yard to appear would be to make her position at Deepe House untenable. She was not convinced that she was accomplishing any useful purpose by remaining there, but Frank Abbott’s message did at least suggest that he might have something useful to communicate. Up to the present the only really suspicious circumstance that had come to her notice was the fact that her letter to Margaret Moray had been opened. She very much disliked the idea that it might have been one of the children who had opened it, but it was possible, and she was too honest to disregard a possibility. As regards Anna Ball, she had discovered no more than that there had been some talk about a Mr. Sandrow, a shadowy and insubstantial person glimpsed in the dusk by Mrs. Craddock and seen, perhaps, by one of the Miss Tremletts.

She had reached this point, when Thomasina said,

“And now you won’t be angry any more, will you? Because I’ve got things to tell you. The Miss Tremletts talk all the time, you know. They just go on, and on, and on. As soon as Elaine stops Gwyneth begins. They sat till half past twelve last night doing it-all about Wyshmere and Aunt Barbara, and weaving and folk-dancing, and how wonderful Peveril was. But I don’t think they think an awful lot about Emily, though they were quite kind. Just pointing out her faults, you know, and saying what a pity it was for Peveril, and how unrestrained the children were, and of course it would be all wrong to repress them, but some people could manage children and other people couldn’t. And they seemed to think you were one of the ones who could. But not Anna or the other girl who only stayed a week.”

Miss Silver smiled.

“I have had considerable experience.”

“Well, I was just getting to the stage when I was missing quite a lot of what they said, when they got to Anna and that woke me up. Do you know, there really was a man.”

“Mr. Sandrow?”

“Oh, you do know about him.” Thomasina’s tone was frankly disappointed. “Who told you?”

“Mrs. Craddock mentioned him, but I really know very little.”

“Well, this is what the Tremletts told me. They said Anna used to slip out quite late at night and meet him, and they didn’t think it was at all nice. Elaine went down to post a letter at the gate because it was a fine night and she wanted, a breath of air and she was going to be busy in the morning. And there were two people standing very close together just off the drive, a man and a girl. The lodge is empty, so she thought it was odd. She said, ‘Who is that?’ and the man turned round and walked away out of the gate. Well, she had a torch and she turned it on, and the girl was Anna. So she said, ‘Who was that?’ and Anna said, ‘Mr. Sandrow.’ Elaine had her letter in her hand, but of course Anna and the young man were much more interesting, so she said, ‘I will walk up the drive with you. Who is Mr. Sandrow?’ And Anna said, ‘Oh, just a friend of mine. Hadn’t you better post your letter, if that’s what you came for?’ ”

“That was not very polite.”

Thomasina said earnestly,

“Oh, but Anna wasn’t. That’s what made it so difficult- about her making friends, you know. She used to be rude, and then she would go on about people not liking her. You see, unless she had a crush on anyone she just wouldn’t bother.”

Miss Silver deplored the expression which Thomasina had used, but she did not feel that this was the time to comment on it. There were points of interest. She said,

“Miss Ball was liable to sudden violent fancies?”

“Yes, but they didn’t generally come to anything. People didn’t really like it-she was too intense.”

“Then she may have taken one of these fancies for this Mr. Sandrow.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did either of the Miss Tremletts see him again?”

“Yes, they did. Gwyneth was in Ledlington, and whilst she was waiting for her bus she saw a car go by. She said Anna Ball was driving it, and there was a man with her. She said he had a red beard and red hair. She really was rather offended, because she thought they might have picked her up and given her a lift back to Deep End.”

“Perhaps they did not see her.”

“She swears Anna did. She has very good sight, and you know, you really can always tell. She says Anna looked straight at her and went by. Of course if I was out with somebody I liked, I don’t suppose I should want to pick Gwyneth up.” Thomasina’s eyes danced for a moment.

Miss Silver repeated the proverb with which Anna Ball had so rudely rebuffed Mrs. Craddock.

“Two is company. But, my dear, all this conversation about Miss Ball-it sounds a little as if the Miss Tremletts were aware that you had an interest.”