“There’s nothing much to tell, Miss. When Mr. Humphries asked me if I were the last person to see Mr. Parrish alive, I made sure that Mr. Greve would say he had been in to tell him tea was ready. But Mr. Greve, who heard the Inspector’s question and my answer, said nothing. So I thought, maybe, he had his reasons and I did not feel exactly as how it was my place ...” Mary Trevert tapped with her foot impatiently. “But what grounds have you for saying that Mr. Greve went in to Mr. Parrish? Mr. Greve declared quite positively that he went out by the side door and did not go into the library at all.” “But, Miss, I heard him speaking to Mr. Parrish ...” The girl turned round and the man saw fear in her wide-open eyes. The butler put his hand on the back of her chair and leaned forward. “Better leave things where they are, Miss,” he said in a low voice. “Mr. Parrish, I dare say, had his reasons. He’s gone to his last account now. What does it matter why he done it ...” The man was agitated, and in his emotion his carefully studied English was forsaking him. But the girl broke in incisively. “Please explain what you mean!” she commanded. “Why, Miss,” replied the butler, “we know that Mr. Greve had no call to like Mr. Parrish seeing how things were between you and the master ...” “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.” “What did you do?” “Well, Miss, I closed the corridor door ...” “Why did you do that?” “Well, Miss, seeing the voices sounded angry-like, I thought perhaps it would be better not to let any one else hear.... And Mr. Greve looked upset-like when he passed me. He gave me quite a turn, he did, when I saw his face under the hall lamp....” “Did you stay there ... and listen?” Bude drew himself up.