It was true. Rutledge took a deep breath and said, “This isn’t the place to talk of dying. Or the time. You mustn’t upset Mrs. Danning!”

Priscilla Connaught looked up at the sturdy farmer’s wife. “I’m sorry,” she said, and then repeated it. But he thought the apology was more a response to his tone of voice than to his words.

Rutledge coaxed a cup of sugared tea into Priscilla Connaught, which warmed her, but failed to make any headway in bringing her out of her depression and exhaustion. Instead she lapsed into a silence that seemed almost a blankness. Setting aside his own tea, he said, “Let me drive you back to Osterley. My car’s just outside. We’ll fetch yours when you’ve rested. The Dannings will see to it, meanwhile. It will be safe enough here.”

With visible effort, Priscilla Connaught roused herself from her silent misery. “Yes. I can’t stay here. I’ve caused these kind people enough distress already. But I don’t know that I can walk. My foot still hurts.”

“I’ll help you, then—”

Her eyes were red-rimmed and dark with pain. “I just want to go home. Will you take me home? Please?”

“Yes. If that’s what you want.” It would probably be best to summon the doctor to her, rather than bring her into a reception room full of staring people.

With the help of Mrs. Danning at the doors, Rutledge managed to half-carry Miss Connaught out of the house and set her in his motorcar. Mrs. Danning provided a pillow for her injured foot, and stepped back, as if glad to wash her hands of her troublesome guest. He went back to the house with Mrs. Danning, promising to see that both the shawl and the pillow were returned and making arrangements for the car to be retrieved later.

The farmer’s wife began to collect the cups and spoons from her kitchen table, her face creased with worry. “Who is it that’s dead? I couldn’t make head nor tail of her story! Should we ought to summon the police? She wouldn’t hear of a doctor for herself, and we didn’t know about anyone else being in the car!”

Rutledge said, “I’m not certain exactly what happened. Dr. Stephenson will give her something to make her rest. Then we’ll be able to sort it out.”

He was on the point of saying more, but Mrs. Danning’s face cleared and she nodded. “I’ve heard he’s a good man. He’ll see her right.” Then she added, “When my husband pulled her out of that car, she begged him to look for a horse. She thought she’d struck it. But there was no horse. Nor any other injured party! He searched for near on to a quarter of an hour, to satisfy her, and never saw any sign of a horse!”