Sturry’s grand manner, followed so hard upon Maud’s damping calm, quite cowed Mrs Dean. She said Thank you, in a meek voice.

Sturry then moved with a measured tread to the front door, which he opened for Maud and Mathilda, and Joseph unwisely asked him if he had seen Mr Stephen anywhere.

‘Mr Stephen, sir,’ said Sturry, in an expressionless voice, ‘is Knocking the Balls About in the billiard-room.’

‘Oh tut, tut, tut!’ said Joseph involuntarily, and with an apologetic glance towards Mrs Dean. ‘These young people are so – so thoughtless! He doesn’t mean any harm, you know. He just doesn’t always think!’

‘Oh, I never mind a little unconventionality!’ declared Mrs Dean, with a wide smile. ‘I know what an odd, wayward creature Stephen is. Let’s go and rout him out, shall we?’

Joseph looked a little dubious, but presumably he thought that Stephen must be accustomed to his future mother-in-law’s breezy tactics, for he made no demur, but led the way to the billiard-room.

The Christmas tree, still decked with tinsel, at once caught Mrs Dean’s eye, and she exclaimed at it admiringly before sailing forward to greet Stephen. ‘My dear boy!’ she uttered. ‘I came as soon as I could!’

Stephen, who was practising nursery-cannons in his shirtsleeves, carefully inspected the disposition of the balls before replying. Having assured himself that they were still lying well, he straightened his back, and said: ‘So I see. How-do-you-do?’

‘Oh, I am perfectly well!’ she said. ‘But you, my poor boy! What you must be going through! Don’t think I don’t understand!’

‘Yes, it has been a greater shock to Stephen than he perhaps realises,’ agreed Joseph. ‘But billiards on this day, old fellow? Do you think you should? It isn’t that I mind, but you don’t want to give people a wrong impression, do you?’

Beyond casting an exasperated glance in Joseph’s direction, Stephen took no notice of this. He asked Mrs Dean if she had seen Valerie.

‘My poor girlie! Yes, she ran straight into my arms when I arrived. This has been a dreadful shock to her. You know what a sensitive little puss she is, Stevie! We must do our best to spare her any more unpleasantness.’

‘That oughtn’t to be difficult,’ he replied. ‘The police aren’t likely to suspect her of having killed my uncle.’

Mrs Dean gave a shudder. ‘Don’t! The very thought of it – ! I must say, Stephen, that if I had had any idea what was going to happen I should never, never, have allowed her to come here!’

‘If,’ said Stephen, with an edge to his voice, ‘you mean to convey by that air of reproach a suggestion that I ought to have warned you, I must point out to you that my uncle’s murder was not one of the planned entertainments for the party!’

‘Naughty boy!’ Mrs Dean scolded, giving his hand a playful slap. ‘If I didn’t know that wicked tongue of yours, I should be very cross with you! But I understand. I’ve always said that you’re one of those shy people who hide their real feelings under a sort of bravado. Aren’t I right, Mr Herriard?’