The Staveleys had decided to wipe off two irksome duties in one day and Fayre found himself let in for a big dinner-party of county worthies. He was still stiff and tired from his unwonted exertions and was heartily glad when the evening was over. He managed, however, to glean a few facts about Gregg’s past from people who, on the arrival of the “new doctor,” had made it their business to find out all about him and who responded only too readily to his adroit questions. He also discovered that the local vicar’s wife had known the Allens in Hampshire in years gone by and had followed Mrs. Draycott’s career from the beginning with considerable interest. In her capacity as vicar’s wife she could not approve of her, but Fayre detected a touch of envy in her voice as she recounted some of the episodes in the dead woman’s chequered past. According to her, Mrs. Draycott had managed to “have a good time,” as she expressed it, from the moment she left the schoolroom and, at one time, in spite of her divorce from her first husband, had moved in a smart, but quite reputable, set in London. Of late years, however, she had undoubtedly gone down in the social scale. The Dare Divorce Suit had done her reputation irretrievable damage and she spent most of her time abroad when she was not staying with people who, for old times’ sake or because they were less squeamish than the rest, were still willing to ask her to their houses. Lady Staveley’s invitation, he gathered, had been the result of a large charity entertainment in which they had both been involved and in connection with which Mrs. Draycott had made herself very useful. Unfortunately, when it came to her associates in the last few years, the vicar’s wife proved a broken reed. She knew as little as Miss Allen of the set in which Mrs. Draycott had been moving when she died. Gregg’s record, allowing for certain embroideries at the hands of the local gossips, proved slightly more enlightening. He had arrived in the neighbourhood about three years before, having come straight from a large, but very poor, practice in London. His predecessor, from whom he had bought his present practice, was retiring, after a long and popular career, and, having weathered a short period of unpopularity due to his brusque manner, Gregg stepped into his shoes as a matter of course. Of his skill there was no question, and, according to Fayre’s informants, he hid a kind heart under a rough exterior. He was unmarried and lived alone, his women-folk being a cook-housekeeper and a maid. He kept one car, which was looked after by the cook’s husband, who combined the duties of chauffeur and gardener. He had the reputation of being a good bridge player, but cared little for society and was not often to be seen at the local entertainments.