Wilcox, who had of course said nothing about Mrs. Bast. "But I cannot let this kind of thing continue without comment. I am morally certain that she is with her sister at Howards End. The house is mine—and, Charles, it will be yours—and when I say that no one is to live there, I mean that no one is to live there. I won't have it." He looked angrily at the moon. "To my mind this question is connected with something far greater, the rights of property itself."
"Undoubtedly," said Charles.
Mr. Wilcox linked his arm in his son's, but somehow liked him less as he told him more. "I don't want you to conclude that my wife and I had anything of the nature of a quarrel. She was only over-wrought, as who would not be? I shall do what I can for Helen, but on the understanding that they clear out of the house at once. Do you see? That is a sine qua non."
"Then at eight tomorrow I may go up in the car?"
"Eight or earlier. Say that you are acting as my representative, and, of course, use no violence, Charles."
On the morrow, as Charles returned, leaving Leonard dead upon the gravel, it did not seem to him that he had used violence. Death was due to heart disease. His stepmother herself had said so, and even Miss Avery had acknowledged that he only used the flat of the sword. On his way through the village he informed the police, who thanked him, and said there must be an inquest. He found his father in the garden shading his eyes from the sun.
"It has been pretty horrible," said Charles gravely. "They were there, and they had the man up there with them too."
"What—what man?"
"I told you last night. His name was Bast."
"My God, is it possible?" said Mr. Wilcox. "In your mother's house! Charles, in your mother's house!"
"I know, pater. That was what I felt. As a matter of fact, there is no need to trouble about the man. He was
