"It was the servants he suspected, I suppose? Of poisoning him, I mean?"

"I don't know... I - really -"

Susan noted her confusion.

"It wasn't the servants. Was it one particular person?"

"I don't know, Mrs Banks. Really I don't know -"

But her eye avoided Susan's. Susan thought to herself that Miss Gilchrist knew more than she was willing to admit.

It was possible that Miss Gilchrist knew a good deal...

Deciding not to press the point for the moment, Susan said:

"What are your own plans for the future, Miss Gilchrist?"

"Well, really, I was going to speak to you about that, Mrs Banks. I told Mr Entwhistle I would be willing to stay on until everything here was cleared up."

"I know. I'm very grateful."

"And I wanted to ask you how long that was likely to be, because, of course, I must start looking about for another post."

Susan considered.

"There's really not very much to be done here. In a couple of days I can get things sorted and notifiy the auctioneer."

"You have decided to sell up everything, then?"

"Yes. I don't suppose there will be any difficulty in letting the cottage?"

"Oh, no - people will queue up for it, I'm sure. There are so few cottages to rent. One nearly always has to buy."

"So it's all very simple, you see." Susan hesitated a moment before saying, "I wanted to tell you - that I hope you'll accept three months'

salary."

"That's very generous of you, I'm sure, Mrs Banks. I do appreciate it. And you would be prepared to - I mean I could ask you - if necessary - to - to recommend me? To say that I had been with a relation of yours and that I had - proved satisfactory?"

"Oh, of course."

"I don't know whether I ought to ask it." Miss Gilchrist's hands began to shake and she tried to steady her voice. "But would it be possible not to - to mention the circumstances - or even the name?"

Susan stared.

"I don't understand."

"That's because you haven't thought, Mrs Banks. It's murder. A murder that's been in the papers and that everybody has read about. Don't you see? People might think. 'Two women living together, and one of them is killed - and perhaps the companion did it.' Don't you see, Mrs Banks?

I'm sure that if I was looking for someone, I'd - well, I'd think twice before engaging myself - if you understand what I mean. Because one never knows! It's been worrying me dreadfully, Mrs Banks; I've been lying awake at night thinking that perhaps I'll never get another job - not of this kind. And what else is there that I can do?"

The question came out with unconscious pathos. Susan felt suddenly stricken. She realised the desperation of this pleasant-spoken commonplace woman who was dependent for existence on the fears and whims of employers. And there was a lot of truth in what Miss Gilchrist had said. You wouldn't, if you could help it, engage a woman to share domestic intimacy who had figured, however innocently, in a murder case.