She began laughing wildly again.
Dr. Armstrong strode forward. He raised his hand and struck her a flat blow on the cheek.
She gasped, hiccuped – and swallowed. She stood motionless a minute, then she said:
«Thank you… I’m all right now.»
Her voice was once more calm and controlled – the voice of the efficient games mistress.
She turned and went across the yard into the kitchen saying:
«Miss Brent and I are getting you breakfast. Can you – bring some sticks to light the fire?»
The marks of the doctor’s hand stood out red on her cheek.
As she went into the kitchen Blore said:
«Well, you dealt with that all right, doctor.»
Armstrong said apologetically: «Had to! We can’t cope with hysteria on the top of everything else.»
Philip Lombard said: «She’s not a hysterical type.»
Armstrong agreed. «Oh, no. Good healthy sensible girl. Just the sudden shock. It might happen to anybody.»
Rogers had chopped a certain amount of firewood before he had been killed. They gathered it up and took it into the kitchen. Vera and Emily Brent were busy. Miss Brent was raking out the stove. Vera was cutting the rind off the bacon.
Emily Brent said: «Thank you. We’ll be as quick as we can – say half an hour to three quarters. The kettle’s got to boil.»
IV
Ex-Inspector Blore said in a low hoarse voice to Philip Lombard: «Know what I’m thinking?»
Philip Lombard said: «As you’re just about to tell me, it’s not worth the trouble of guessing.»
Ex-Inspector Blore was an earnest man. A light touch was incomprehensible to him. He went on heavily:
«There was a case in America. Old gentleman and his wife – both killed with an axe. Middle of the morning. Nobody in the house but the daughter and the maid. Maid, it was proved, couldn’t have done it. Daughter was a respectable middle-aged spinster. Seemed incredible. So incredible that they acquitted her. But they never found any other explanation.» He paused. «I thought of that when I saw the axe – and then when I went into the kitchen and saw her there so neat and calm. Hadn’t turned a hair! That girl, coming all over hysterical – well, that’s natural – the sort of thing you’d expect – don’t you think so?»
Philip Lombard said laconically: «It might be.»
Blore went on. «But the other! So neat and prim – wrapped up in that apron – Mrs. Rogers’ apron, I suppose – saying: ‘Breakfast will be ready in half an hour or so.’ If you ask me that woman’s as mad as a hatter! Lots of elderly spinsters go that way – 1 don’t mean go in for homicide on the grand scale, but go queer in their heads. Unfortunately it’s taken her this way. Religious mania – thinks she’s God’s instrument, something of that kind! She sits in her room, you know, reading her Bible.»
Philip Lombard sighed and said: «That’s hardly proof positive of an unbalanced mentality, Blore.»
But Blore went on, ploddingly, perseveringly:
«And then she was out – in her mackintosh, said she’d been down to look at the sea.»
The other shook his head.
He said: «Rogers was killed as he was chopping firewood – that is to say first thing when he got up. The Brent woman wouldn’t have needed to wander about outside for hours afterwards. If you ask me, the murderer of Rogers would take jolly good care to be rolled up in bed snoring.»