"I believe I understand. Where do the three men sleep?"

"Where do they sleep?"

"Yes. It's no great secret is it? Do they sleep in the house?"

Inclito shook his head, more in wonder, it seemed to me, than in denial. "In back, in the big barn. They got a place like a little house in there that's just for them. I'll show you if you want to look."

"After dinner, perhaps. We'll see. What about the three women? Where do they sleep?"

"Not in there. That what you're thinking?"

"I'm not thinking at all, " I told him. "I simply want to know."

"The cook in the kitchen. That's her bedroom, too, so I got to knock on the door if I want something late at night. Sometimes one of the girls sleeps in there with her. Or sometimes one will sleep with my mother. If she's afraid she'll maybe be sick or need something, one will sleep in her room on a little bed we got in there. Or my daughter will, or even Fava."

I said, "Suppose that your daughter is to sleep with your mother, and that the cook doesn't require company in the kitchen. Where would the other three sleep then?"

Laying aside his whip, Inclito wiped the sweat from his big, smoothly curved head with one large hand; he is almost totally bald, as I should have said much earlier. "You want to stay with us tonight? There's two empty rooms. Torda can fix up a bed for you."

"I'm not hinting, merely trying to find out how well placed each of these three women is to overhear your talk, to read your letters, and so forth, " I explained. "Your coachman might overhear you talk with some friend, while he drove you, for example. But-"

"Hardly ever."

"Exactly. Though he might conceivably hear your mother tell a friend of hers something you had told her, so we can't rule him out altogether. The other two men seem even less likely thus far. You believe that I may be Patera Silk. May I tell you something the real Silk once said?"