“Except for odd people, friends, I suppose, of the Colonel’s, we have had so few visitors since we have been at Cray’s Folly. Apart from all sorts of queer happenings which really”—she laughed nervously—“may have no significance whatever, the crowning mystery to my mind is why Colonel Menendez should have leased this huge house.”
“He does not entertain very much, then?”
“Scarcely at all. The ‘County’—do you know what I mean by the ‘County?’—began by receiving him with open arms and ended by sending him to Coventry. His lavish style of entertainment they labelled ‘swank’—horrible word but very expressive! They concluded that they did not understand him, and of everything they don’t understand they disapprove. So after the first month or so it became very lonely at Cray’s Folly. Our foreign servants—there are five of them altogether—got us a dreadfully bad name. Then, little by little, a sort of cloud seemed to settle on everything. The Colonel made two visits abroad, I don’t know exactly where he went, but on his return from the first visit Madame de Stämer changed.”
“Changed?—in what way?”
“I am afraid it would be hopeless to try to make you understand, Mr. Knox, but in some subtle way she changed. Underneath all her vivacity she is a tragic woman, and—oh, how can I explain?” Val Beverley made a little gesture of despair.
“Perhaps you mean,” I suggested, “that she seemed to become even less happy than before?”
“Yes,” she replied, looking at me eagerly. “Has Colonel Menendez told you anything to account for it?”
“Nothing,” I said, “He has left us strangely in
