‘Well, if it wasn’t for being frightfully rich, I don’t think I would marry Stephen,’ said Valerie, in a burst of frankness.

‘Hush, dear! I suppose there’s no doubt that Stephen will inherit all this?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, except that Uncle Joe practically told me he would! Only I simply couldn’t live here all the year round, Mummy: I should go mad!’

‘Time enough to think of that later.’ Mrs Dean glanced round the room. ‘His uncle must have been worth a fortune. You don’t run a place like this on twopence-ha’penny a year. But I don’t like the sound of this murder, Val. Of course, we don’t know, and very likely everything will turn out satisfactorily, but I couldn’t let my girlie marry a murderer.’

‘I wouldn’t be able to, would I?’ asked Valerie, opening her lovely eyes very wide.

‘Of course not, my pet, but it was the engagement I was thinking of. Only one doesn’t wish to do anything in haste. Mother has to think of Mavis too, you know.’

‘I don’t see what Mavis has got to do with my marrying Stephen.’

‘Now, don’t be silly, childie!’ said Mrs Dean, somewhat tartly. ‘Heaven knows it isn’t easy to find an eligible husband for one daughter, let alone two! Your meeting Stephen at the Crewes’ was a piece of very good luck – not that I would want either of my chicks to marry without love, naturally – and young men who are heirs to fortunes don’t crop up every day of the week by any means. We shall just have to wait.’

‘I don’t believe Stephen ever would have proposed to me if you hadn’t sort of made him,’ said Valerie discontentedly. ‘In fact, in a way I rather wish he hadn’t.’

‘You know Mother doesn’t like her girlies to talk in that vulgar way. And she doesn’t like to see that sulky look, either. You must just trust her to do what’s best, and be your own bright self, my pet.’

‘I don’t see how anyone could possibly be bright in this house. It’s a ghastly place. Paula says it’s evil.’

‘Nonsense!’ said Mrs Dean. ‘Now, run along, and don’t let Mother hear any more of that kind of rubbish!’

Valerie departed with something very like a flounce, but reappeared a minute later with whitened cheeks, and quickened breath. ‘Mummy!’ she gasped. ‘The most frightful thing! Someone has arrived! Two of them! I saw them from the top of the stairs!’

‘Good gracious, Val, why shouldn’t people arrive? Who are they?’

‘It’s an Inspector from Scotland Yard! I heard him say so to Sturry! Oh, Mummy, can’t we go home? Can’t you get me out of this?’

‘Come inside, and shut the door!’ commanded Mrs Dean. ‘Now, just you drink this glass of water, and stop being silly! I’m not at all surprised that Scotland Yard has been called in. There’s nothing for you to worry about. No one thinks you had anything to do with the murder.’