to me,’ said a startled Clarisa.
‘I did not wish to upset you, my dear. Talbot is always going up to her room, on some pretext or other, delivering her post, taking up coals for her fire, that sort of thing.’
‘I take it you do not approve of this, ladies?’ suggested Ravenscroft.
‘We certainly do not. He, a married man as well. I have seen her encouraging him. What does she want with a man like that, I ask you?’ continued Arabella.
‘Dear me, how terrible,’ muttered the younger sister.
‘A woman of her age should have acquired a husband of her own by now.’
‘I am interested in Count Turco,’ said Ravenscroft changing the subject of the conversation.
‘A strange man,’ said Arabella.
‘But he plays such lovely tunes on his violin,’ smiled Clarisa.
‘He often entertains us in the evenings after dinner,’ continued Arabella. ‘The poor man. All of course is not what it seems.’
‘Oh, why do you say that?’ asked Ravenscroft his curiosity aroused.
‘The Count is rather fond of the drink, to put it plainly. There have been times when he seemed quite unhappy with this world, and then he takes a bottle or two up to his room, and we do not see him for two, or even three days. All we can hear is the sound of that violin, so sad. Once I heard the poor man crying up there and there was the sound of furniture being knocked over, and shouting. It was all so distressing,’said Arabella shaking her head.
‘So sad,’ echoed Clarisa.
‘Does the Count ever talk about his unhappiness?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘No. After these dark periods, he usually appears at breakfast the next day, being his usual excitable self,’ replied Arabella.
‘He did apologize once, I remember. He said it was the loneliness caused by his having left Italy and living in a strange country,’ added Clarisa.
‘They are so unpredictable these Italians,’ said Arabella. ‘I suppose it must be the result of all that sun.’
‘Do you see much of Mr Claybourne?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘He comes and goes. He is only here for one or two days a week,’ offered Clarisa.
‘Don’t you find it strange, ladies, that Mr Claybourne would rent a room for such a short period of time each week?’ continued Ravenscroft.
‘Well, yes I suppose it is rather odd. I must say we have never thought about it like that. He is usually here on a Monday night,’ said Arabella.
‘And often on a Tuesday. Sometimes,’ remarked the younger sister.
‘I am given to understand that Mr.Claybourne is some kind of commercial traveller?’ asked Ravenscroft interested in knowing more about the absent lodger.
‘Something very high up in insurance, I believe,’ answered the older sister.
‘Are you sure, my dear? I thought he was something to do with the surveying of the roads,’ suggested Clarisa.
‘What on earth makes you think that? No, I am sure it is insurance. He is an agent for one of the large companies,’ corrected Arabella.
‘I thought I saw him coming into the house holding one of those round things in which you roll up a long measuring tape.’
‘No Clarisa. It is insurance,’ sighed Arabella.
‘Insurance. I suppose you must be right, sister.’
‘What about Mr Cherrington, miss?’ asked Crabb.
‘Oh, a real gentleman,’ answered Arabella.
‘So polite,’ added Clarisa.
‘Such an interesting gentleman. Always so entertaining at dinner. Why, only last week he was telling us all about his days in India. Did you know, inspector, that he used to grow tea in India, on the slopes of the hills, so enterprising,’ smiled Arabella.
‘Yes, he did mention it to us,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Apparently he was once nearly eaten by a tiger!’ exclaimed Arabella.
‘Such a thrilling account!’ added Clarisa.
‘He was leading an expedition into the foothills, and it was just getting dark when a large angry tiger jumped out in front of the party and made to come towards them.’
‘And what did Mr. Cherrington
‘I did not wish to upset you, my dear. Talbot is always going up to her room, on some pretext or other, delivering her post, taking up coals for her fire, that sort of thing.’
‘I take it you do not approve of this, ladies?’ suggested Ravenscroft.
‘We certainly do not. He, a married man as well. I have seen her encouraging him. What does she want with a man like that, I ask you?’ continued Arabella.
‘Dear me, how terrible,’ muttered the younger sister.
‘A woman of her age should have acquired a husband of her own by now.’
‘I am interested in Count Turco,’ said Ravenscroft changing the subject of the conversation.
‘A strange man,’ said Arabella.
‘But he plays such lovely tunes on his violin,’ smiled Clarisa.
‘He often entertains us in the evenings after dinner,’ continued Arabella. ‘The poor man. All of course is not what it seems.’
‘Oh, why do you say that?’ asked Ravenscroft his curiosity aroused.
‘The Count is rather fond of the drink, to put it plainly. There have been times when he seemed quite unhappy with this world, and then he takes a bottle or two up to his room, and we do not see him for two, or even three days. All we can hear is the sound of that violin, so sad. Once I heard the poor man crying up there and there was the sound of furniture being knocked over, and shouting. It was all so distressing,’said Arabella shaking her head.
‘So sad,’ echoed Clarisa.
‘Does the Count ever talk about his unhappiness?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘No. After these dark periods, he usually appears at breakfast the next day, being his usual excitable self,’ replied Arabella.
‘He did apologize once, I remember. He said it was the loneliness caused by his having left Italy and living in a strange country,’ added Clarisa.
‘They are so unpredictable these Italians,’ said Arabella. ‘I suppose it must be the result of all that sun.’
‘Do you see much of Mr Claybourne?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘He comes and goes. He is only here for one or two days a week,’ offered Clarisa.
‘Don’t you find it strange, ladies, that Mr Claybourne would rent a room for such a short period of time each week?’ continued Ravenscroft.
‘Well, yes I suppose it is rather odd. I must say we have never thought about it like that. He is usually here on a Monday night,’ said Arabella.
‘And often on a Tuesday. Sometimes,’ remarked the younger sister.
‘I am given to understand that Mr.Claybourne is some kind of commercial traveller?’ asked Ravenscroft interested in knowing more about the absent lodger.
‘Something very high up in insurance, I believe,’ answered the older sister.
‘Are you sure, my dear? I thought he was something to do with the surveying of the roads,’ suggested Clarisa.
‘What on earth makes you think that? No, I am sure it is insurance. He is an agent for one of the large companies,’ corrected Arabella.
‘I thought I saw him coming into the house holding one of those round things in which you roll up a long measuring tape.’
‘No Clarisa. It is insurance,’ sighed Arabella.
‘Insurance. I suppose you must be right, sister.’
‘What about Mr Cherrington, miss?’ asked Crabb.
‘Oh, a real gentleman,’ answered Arabella.
‘So polite,’ added Clarisa.
‘Such an interesting gentleman. Always so entertaining at dinner. Why, only last week he was telling us all about his days in India. Did you know, inspector, that he used to grow tea in India, on the slopes of the hills, so enterprising,’ smiled Arabella.
‘Yes, he did mention it to us,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Apparently he was once nearly eaten by a tiger!’ exclaimed Arabella.
‘Such a thrilling account!’ added Clarisa.
‘He was leading an expedition into the foothills, and it was just getting dark when a large angry tiger jumped out in front of the party and made to come towards them.’
‘And what did Mr. Cherrington
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