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Cedric, Emma, Harold and Mr. Wimborne all looked at her.
Her reply, for what it was worth, had naturally been prepared for some time.
"Really," she said in a hesitating voice, "I hardly know… I did feel that the whole place needed a thorough clearing out and cleaning. And there was" – she hesitated – “a very peculiar and disagreeable smell…."
She had counted accurately on the immediate shrinking of everyone from the unpleasantness of this idea….
Mr. Wimborne murmured: "Yes, yes, of course… about three weeks the police surgeon said… I think, you know, we must all try and not let our minds dwell on this thing." He smiled encouragingly at Emma who had turned very pale. "Remember," he said, “this wretched young woman was nothing to do with any of us."
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"Ah, but you can't be so sure of that, can you?" said Cedric.
Lucy Eyelesbarrow looked at him with some interest. She had already been intrigued by the rather startling differences between the three brothers. Cedric was a big man with a weather-beaten rugged face, unkempt dark hair and a jocund manner. He had arrived from the airport unshaven, was still wearing the clothes in which he had arrived and which seemed to be the