‘Sylvia Keene. She was pretty—really very pretty. Fair-haired, you know, and a lovely skin. Not, perhaps, very clever. In fact, rather stupid.’

‘Oh! come, Dolly,’ protested her husband.

‘Arthur, of course, wouldn’t think so,’ said Mrs Bantry drily. ‘But she was stupid—she really never said anything worth listening to.’

‘One of the most graceful creatures I ever saw,’ said Colonel Bantry warmly. ‘See her playing tennis—charming, simply charming. And she was full of fun—most amusing little thing. And such a pretty way with her. I bet the young fellows all thought so.’

‘That’s just where you’re wrong,’ said Mrs Bantry. ‘Youth, as such, has no charms for young men nowadays. It’s only old buffers like you, Arthur, who sit maundering on about young girls.’

‘Being young’s no good,’ said Jane. ‘You’ve got to have SA.’

‘What,’ said Miss Marple, ‘is SA?’

‘Sex appeal,’ said Jane.

‘Ah! yes,’ said Miss Marple. ‘What in my day they used to call “having the come hither in your eye”.’

‘Not a bad description,’ said Sir Henry. ‘The dame de compagnie you described, I think, as a pussy, Mrs Bantry?’

‘I didn’t mean a cat, you know,’ said Mrs Bantry. ‘It’s quite different. Just a big soft white purry person. Always very sweet. That’s what Adelaide Carpenter was like.’

‘What sort of aged woman?’

‘Oh! I should say fortyish. She’d been there some time—ever since Sylvia was eleven, I believe. A very tactful person. One of those widows left in unfortunate circumstances with plenty of aristocratic relations, but no ready cash. I didn’t like her myself—but then I never do like people with very white long hands. And I don’t like pussies.’

‘Mr Curle?’

‘Oh! one of those elderly stooping men. There are so many of them about, you’d hardly know one from the other. He showed enthusiasm when talking about his musty books, but not at any other time. I don’t think Sir Ambrose knew him very well.’

‘And Jerry next door?’

‘A really charming boy. He was engaged to Sylvia. That’s what made it so sad.’

‘Now I wonder—’ began Miss Marple, and then stopped.

‘What?’

‘Nothing, dear.’

Sir Henry looked at the old lady curiously. Then he said thoughtfully:

‘So this young couple were engaged. Had they been engaged long?’

‘About a year. Sir Ambrose had opposed the engagement on the plea that Sylvia was too young. But after a year’s engagement he had given in and the marriage was to have taken place quite soon.’

‘Ah! Had the young lady any property?’

‘Next to nothing—a bare hundred or two a year.’

‘No rat in that hole, Clithering,’ said Colonel Bantry, and laughed.

‘It’s the doctor’s turn to ask a question,’ said Sir Henry. ‘I stand down.’

‘My curiosity is mainly professional,’ said Dr Lloyd. ‘I should like to know what medical evidence was given at the inquest—that is, if our hostess remembers, or, indeed, if she knows.’

‘I know roughly,’ said Mrs Bantry. ‘It was poisoning by digitalin—is that right?’

Dr Lloyd nodded.