Загадочное происшествие в Стайлзе

Chapter VIII. Fresh Suspicions

           Cynthia,whoseyoungspiritswerenaturallybuoyant,waslookingquiteherprettyselfagain,andweall,withtheexceptionofLawrence,whoseemedunalterablygloomyandnervous,werequietlycheerful,attheopeningofanewandhopefulfuture.

           Thepapers,ofcourse,hadbeenfullofthetragedy.Glaringheadlines,sandwichedbiographiesofeverymemberofthehousehold,subtleinnuendoes,theusualfamiliartagaboutthepolicehavingaclue.Nothingwassparedus.Itwasaslacktime.Thewarwasmomentarilyinactive,andthenewspapersseizedwithavidityonthiscrimeinfashionablelife:“TheMysteriousAffairatStyles”wasthetopicofthemoment.

           NaturallyitwasveryannoyingfortheCavendishes.Thehousewasconstantlybesiegedbyreporters,whowereconsistentlydeniedadmission,butwhocontinuedtohauntthevillageandthegrounds,wheretheylayinwaitwithcameras,foranyunwarymembersofthehousehold.Wealllivedinablastofpublicity.TheScotlandYardmencameandwent,examining,questioning,lynx-eyedandreservedoftongue.Towardswhatendtheywereworking,wedidnotknow.Hadtheyanyclue,orwouldthewholethingremaininthecategoryofundiscoveredcrimes?

           Afterbreakfast,Dorcascameuptomerathermysteriously,andaskedifshemighthaveafewwordswithme.

           “Certainly.Whatisit,Dorcas?”

           “Well,it’sjustthis,sir.You’llbeseeingtheBelgiangentlemanto-dayperhaps?”Inodded.“Well,sir,youknowhowheaskedmesoparticularifthemistress,oranyoneelse,hadagreendress?”

           “Yes,yes.

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