"My good Rupert, did you imagine that, after your rushing out of the
room like that, I was going to stop in bed to be murdered? What has
been going on? What a state this room is in! And, my dear Violet, what
is the matter with you? You look as if you'd seen, not one ghost, but
several!" When the lady saw that there really was something the matter
with the girl, her flippant tones became suddenly earnest. "Violet, are
you ill?"
"I twisted my foot coming down the stairs, and--it is pretty bad."
"You poor child! It's plain you can't stand; and you oughtn't to.
We'll have you carried upstairs. There's a carrying chair in the hall.
But"--her ladyship's glance was wandering round--"whatever has been
going on in here? Is that---- What's that on the floor?"
Major Reith spoke:
"If you'll forgive me, Countess, I don't think, at any rate, that you
ladies ought to come in here."
"And, pray, why not, Major Reith; what has happened?"
The major signalled with his eyes to the earl; the countess caught him
in the act.
"It's no good your trying to tell the earl that I'm to be got rid of. I
insist, Major Reith, upon your telling me what that mark on the carpet
means."
"I'm afraid, Lady Cantyre, that there's been foul play."
The major was plainly embarrassed.
"At Avonham? In my house? Foul play? What do you mean?"
The major's embarrassment did not grow less, which she seemed to
resent.
"What is it you are trying to find words to hide? Violet, you at least
are my friend. What is it that Major Reith does not wish me to know?
Tell me, in two words, what has happened."
"Mr. Noel Draycott has been murdered."
There burst a chorus of exclamation from all the assembled people. One
or two of the more sensitive feminine spirits shrieked. One elderly
lady pressed boldly to the front, heedless of the fact that the state
of deshabille that she was in disclosed an amazing absence of hair on
her head:
"I don't know about anybody having been murdered, but I know that I've
been robbed."
The hostess turned to her.
"Duchess!"
"Every bit of jewellery I brought with me has been stolen."
A feminine voice exclaimed:
"What! the Ditchling diamonds?"
"You saw that I was wearing them to-night at the ball? Well, they're
gone--stolen--every one!"
"But--are you sure?" The hostess was regarding the hairless lady with a
look of very genuine concern.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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