They eyed each other resentfully. Dr Harkness looked at Charles who sat, doubled up with his hands on his chest. He went to him. ‘Not too good?‘ he said. Timon Gantry put a hand on Charles’s shoulder.

‘I’m going to take you to your room, old boy. Next door, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Dr Harkness said. ‘But not just yet. In a minute. Good idea.’ He turned to Florence. ‘Do you know where Mr Templeton keeps his tablets? Get them, will you? And you might bring some aspirin at the same time. Run along, now.’ Florence went into the dressing-room. He sat beside Charles on the bed and took his wrist. ‘Steady does it,’ he said, and looked at Gantry. ‘Brandy.’

‘I know where it is,’ Warrender said, and went out.

Gantry said: ‘What about the mob downstairs?’

‘They can wait.’ He held the wrist a little longer and then laid Charles’s hand on his knee keeping his own over it. ‘We’ll move you in a moment. You must let other people think for you. It’s been a bad thing.’

‘I can’t …’ Charles said. ‘I can’t …’ And fetched his breath in irregular, tearing sighs.

‘Don’t try to work things out. Not just yet. Ah, here’s Florence. Good. Now then: one of these.’

He gave Charles a tablet. Warrender came back with brandy. ‘This’ll help,’ Dr Harkness said. They waited in silence.

‘I’m all right,’ Charles said presently.

‘Fine. Now, an arm each and take it steady. His room’s next door. Lie down, Charles, won’t you?’

Charles nodded and Warrender moved towards him. ‘No,’ Charles said quite strongly, and turned to Gantry. ‘I’m all right,’ he repeated, and Gantry very efficiently supported him through the door into his dressing-room.

Warrender stood for a moment, irresolute, and then lifted his chin and followed them.

‘Get him a hot bottle,’ Harkness said to Florence.

When she’d gone he swallowed three aspirins, took up the bedside telephone and dialled a number.

‘This is Dr Frank Harkness. I’m speaking from Number 2, Pardoner’s Place. Mr Charles Templeton’s house. There’s been an accident. A fatality. Some sort of pest killer. Mrs Templeton. Yes. About fifty people – a party. Right. I’ll wait.’

As he replaced the receiver Gantry came back. He stopped short when he saw Harkness. ‘What now?’ he asked.

‘I’ve telephoned the police.’

‘The police!’

‘In cases like this,’ Harkness said, ‘one notifies the police.’

‘Anybody would think …’

‘Anybody will think anything,’ Dr Harkness grunted. He turned back the elaborate counterpane and the blankets under it. ‘I don’t want to call the servants,’ he said, ‘and that woman’s on the edge of hysteria. This sheet’ll do.’ He pulled it off, bundled it up and threw it to Gantry. ‘Cover her up, old boy, will you?’