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Updated: June 18, 2025
When Richford followed you I had to borrow that tray and the rest of it and disburse another half sovereign. Then I saw that my old friend Berrington had come to my rescue. Did you tell him, Beatrice?" "He saw the message on the wine card and recognized your handwriting. But I shall not be able to stay much longer, Mark. Those people may come into the drawing-room at any moment.
They then wheeled with one accord, and Emilia was left to herself. Richford was an easy drive from Brookfield, through lanes of elm and white hawthorn. The ladies never acted so well as when they were in the presence of a fact which they acknowledged, but did not recognize.
I was loath to send for you on this auspicious occasion, but it could not be helped." There was the faintest suggestion of a sneer in the thin voice. Richford crossed the room and took another chair by the side of the invalid.
"It is so good of you to come," Beatrice said, still with her head thrown back in the air. "That man has followed me, though Heaven knows what he has to be suspicious about. Go away for a few minutes, as if you had forgotten something, and then return again." Mark Ventmore assented with a low bow. Scarcely had he left the conservatory by a door leading to the corridor than Richford strolled in.
You have got some scheme in your head for getting hold of the stones. But you can't do it alone." "If I could should I be such a cursed fool as to bring you two in?" Richford growled. "But I but I can't appear. All I can do is to show you the way and trust to your honour to give me a third of the plunder when it is turned into cash." "Hadn't you better get to the point?"
"You think you are going to hang about here posing as a victim till something turns up. I dare say that Rashborough would be on your side because he is of that peculiar class of silly billy, but you may be sure that I shall not stand it. As a matter of fact, you can't stay here, Beatrice. I rather like Richford; he gives me little tips, and he has helped me over my bridge account more than once.
"Very sorry, sir," the inspector said politely; "but it is already out of private hands. Both Dr. Oswin and Dr. Andrews have suggested an inquest; they have notified us, and, if they wished to change their minds now, I doubt if my chief would permit them." Richford seemed to be on the point of some passionate outburst, but he checked himself.
"What is the matter?" she asked listlessly. "You look as if you had had some great shock, like a man who has escaped from prison. Your face is ghastly." Richford made no reply for a moment. He contemplated his sullen, livid features in a large Venetian mirror opposite. He was not a pretty object at any time, but he was absolutely repulsive just at that moment. "Bit of an upset," he stammered.
There had been a fatal accident at a polo match under their very feet, and Richford had puffed at his cigarette and expressed the sentiment that if fools did that kind of thing they must be prepared to put up with the consequences. "You are not telling the truth!" Beatrice said coldly. "As if anything of that kind would affect you. You are concealing something from me.
Sir Charles held out his hands helplessly. He always expected other people to do things for him. Beatrice began to see her side of the case. Richford was dead, and the large sum of money that he had promised Sir Charles was no longer available. And Beatrice recalled the night of the dinner party, when her father had taken her to the window, and had shown her the two men watching silently below.
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