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Lady Stanmere waited with patient resignation to see what was going to happen next. Fortunately there were no callers to worry her with idle curiosity or well-meant sympathy. The chatelaine of Stanmere had been a recluse for many years, alone with her sorrows, and almost forgotten by the world. She had less need of the world than ever now.
Meanwhile, life seemed to move on there as smoothly as ever. It seemed impossible to connect that house with all its quiet beauty with a sensational tragedy. The sun beat down on the piled-up woods and the trim lawns, the deer dozed in the bracken, the rose garden was still in full fragrance. Goss had some questions to answer and some curiosity to satisfy in the way of reporters, whom he fenced off with his best episcopal manner.