'You have forgotten me, dear,' said Miss Marple, smiling brightly.
Joyce was slightly taken aback, but she concealed the fact quickly.
'That would be lovely, Miss Marple,' she said. 'I didn't think you would care to play.'
'I think it would be very interesting,' said Miss Marple, 'especially with so many clever gentlemen present. I am afraid I am not clever myself, but living all these years in St. Mary Mead does give one an insight into human nature.'
'I am sure your co-operation will be very valuable,' said Sir Henry, courteously.
'Well, who is going to start?' said Joyce.
The Idol House of Astarte
'And now, Dr. Pender, what are you going to tell us?'
The old clergyman smiled gently.
'My life has been passed in quiet places,' he said. 'Very few eventful happenings have come my way. Yet once, when I was a young man, I had one very strange and tragic experience. Since then I have never laughed at the people who use the word atmosphere. There is such a thing. There are certain places imbued and saturated with good or evil influences which can make their power felt.'
Joyce got up and switched off the two lamps, leaving the room lit only by the flickering firelight.
'Atmosphere,' she said. 'Now we can get along.'
Dr. Pender smiled at her, and leaning back in his chair and taking off his pince-nez, he began his story in a gentle reminiscent voice.
'I don't know whether any of you know Dartmoor at all. The place I am telling you about is situated on the borders of Dartmoor. It was bought by a man called Haydon - Sir Richard Haydon. I had known him in his college days, and though I had lost sight of him for some years, the old ties of friendship still held, and I accepted with pleasure his invitation to go down to Silent Grove, as his new purchase was called.