“I don’t suppose there was anyone here quite suitable. People generally appeared to like her—I never heard anyone say anything unkind about her. Men found her quite attractive. That soft American accent for one thing, and she seemed—I don’t know—my husband said that she brought out a man’s protective instincts.”

Mrs. Barnett clucked her tongue at the congealed food on his plate, and added quickly, “I’ll just warm this up.”

“Did women like her?”

“I suppose they did. But women of her class are often— you either fit into their circle or you don’t.” She paused, pensive. “It’s odd, I’ve just remembered something. The Sedgwick family came here occasionally for luncheon on market day. My husband’s mother, who is gone now, always called Mrs. Sedgwick the ‘little rabbit.’ Almost as if she imagined her huddled in the midst of the dogs, trying to vanish.” She shook her head. “I never saw that, myself.”

She took up the plate and started for the kitchen. Then she turned and forced herself to ask, “You won’t upset Miss Trent again, will you? I should hate to lose her as a guest just because you’ve badgered her. There aren’t that many weekly guests this time of year. And it isn’t right that you should use your office to upset her!”

“She’ll be safe enough, I promise you,” he said, and she walked through the swinging doors to the kitchen without looking back.

Miss Trent came in reluctantly to join Rutledge. Her face was exceedingly pale, and she seemed uneasy when she realized that they had the vast room to themselves.

Rutledge said immediately, “I ought to apologize. But I have a job to do, and I try to do it well.”

It was a more effective apology than an abject capitulation, and she accepted it.

“I don’t particularly care to take a meal with you,” she said in return. “But it’s probably more comfortable here than at the police station, with everyone staring!” A quirk of sudden humor in her eyes told him she was giving him his own back.

He laughed. “Yes, I suppose it is. But I promise to talk about Father James, not you.”

“I didn’t know him well—”

“You told me once before that he’d wanted something from you that you couldn’t give him. Was it to do with Mrs. Sedgwick?”

“Yes.” Like a swimmer plunging into cold water, she shivered. “I don’t know how he discovered that I’d—that there was a connection with the ship. But one day as we were having tea, he asked me if I remembered meeting her. I told him I couldn’t even remember sailing. It’s all blacked out, like amnesia, only it was shock that did it.”

“Do the doctors feel you might eventually remember?”