From the end of the terrace Gina called:

‘You ought to come in, Grandam. It’s getting cold — and Jolly will be furious.’

Carrie Louise gave her little silvery laugh.

‘They all fuss about me so,’ she said. ‘They rub it in that I’m an old woman.’

‘And you don’t feel like one.’

‘No, I don’t, Jane. In spite of all my aches and pains and I’ve got plenty. Inside I go on feeling just a chit like Gina. Perhaps everyone does. The glass shows them how old they are and they just don’t believe it. It seems only a few months ago that we were at Florence. Do you remember Fraulein Schweich and her boots?’

The two elderly women laughed together at events that had happened nearly half a century ago.

They walked together to a side door. In the doorway a gaunt elderly lady met them. She had an arrogant nose, a short haircut and wore stout well-cut tweeds.

She said fiercely:

‘It’s absolutely crazy of you, Cara, to stay out so late. You’re absolutely incapable of taking care of yourself. What will Mr Serrocold say?’

‘Don’t scold me, Jolly,’ said Carrie Louise pleadingly.

She introduced Miss Bellever to Miss Marple.

‘This is Miss Bellever, who is simply everything to me. Nurse, dragon, watchdog, secretary, housekeeper and very faithful friend.’

Juliet Bellever sniffed, and the end of her big nose turned rather pink, a sign of emotion.

‘I do what I can,’ she said gruffly. ‘This is a crazy household. You simply can’t arrange any kind of planned routine.’

‘Darling Jolly, of course you can’t. I wonder why you ever try. Where are you putting Miss Marple?’

‘In the Blue Room. Shall I take her up?’ asked Miss Bellever.

‘Yes, please do, Jolly. And then bring her down to tea. It’s in the library today, I think.’

The Blue Room had heavy curtains of a rich faded blue brocade that must have been, Miss Marple thought, about fifty years old. The furniture was mahogany, big and solid, and the bed was a vast mahogany fourposter. Miss Bellever opened a door into a connecting bathroom. This was unexpectedly modern, orchid in colouring and with much dazzling chromium.

She observed grimly:

‘John Restarick had ten bathrooms put into the house when he married Cara. The plumbing is about the only thing that’s ever been modernized. He wouldn’t hear of the rest being altered — said the whole place was a perfect Period Piece. Did you ever know him at all?’

‘No, I never met him. Mrs Serrocold and I have met very seldom though we have always corresponded.’

‘He was an agreeable fellow,’ said Miss Bellever. ‘No good, of course! A complete rotter. But pleasant to have about the house. Great charm. Women liked him far too much. That was his undoing in the end. Not really Cara’s type.’

She added with a brusque resumption of her practical manner:

‘The housemaid will unpack for you. Do you want a wash before tea?’