‘Yes. I went there to collect my sketch-box. I wanted to see what materials I had and tidy it up. I was going to work out of doors on Sunday. I brought the box in here and spent the afternoon at different tidying jobs. After that Katti and I went for a walk to look for a subject. We dined out. I asked when we got here on Saturday if Garcia had gone, and the maids told me he hadn’t been in to breakfast or lunch, so I supposed he had pushed off at daybreak. They had sent his dinner down to the studio the night before—Friday night. It was easier than having it up here. He sleeps in the studio, you know.’

‘Why was that?’

‘It was advisable. I didn’t want him in the house. You’ve heard what he’s like with women.’

‘I see. On Saturday were you long in the studio?’

‘No. I simply got my sketch-box. I was painting out of doors.’

‘Anyone go in with you?’

‘No.’

‘Did you notice the drape?’

Troy leant forward, her cropped head between two clenched fists.

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to remember ever since Hatchett said it was stretched out when he saw it on Sunday.

‘Give me a moment. I went straight to my cupboard behind the door and got out my sketching gear. I had a look in the box and found there was no turpentine in the bottle, so I took it to the junk-room and filled it up. Then I came back to the studio and—yes, yes!’

‘You’ve remembered it?’

‘Yes. I—I must tell you I hadn’t screwed myself up to looking at the portrait of Seacliff again. Not since I first saw what Sonia had done to it. I just turned it face to the wall behind the throne. Well, I saw it when I came out of the junk-room, and I thought: “I can’t go on cutting it dead. It can’t stand there for ever, giving me queasy horrors whenever I catch sight of it.” So I began to walk towards it, and I got as far as the edge of the throne, and I remember now quite clearly I walked carefully round the drape, so as not to disturb it, and I noticed, without noticing, don’t you know, that the silk was in position—stretched straight from the cushion and pinned to the floor of the throne. You may have noticed that it was caught with a safety-pin to the top of the cushion. That was to prevent it slipping off when she lay down on it. It was fixed lightly to the floor with a drawing-pin that flew out when the drape took her weight. The whole idea was to get the accidental swill of the silk round the figure. It was stretched out like that when I saw it.’