The last name elicited a mild protest.

“My dear Frank!”

“Cross my heart ma’am, they call her Artie-I swear it!”

She drew on the blue ball.

“Let us return to Tilling Green.”

“By all means. There are also living at the Manor Colonel Roger’s sister, Miss Maggie Repton, the kind of sister who clings to the place where she was born and brought up because it has simply never occurred to her to go anywhere or do anything. She does keep house with a good deal of inefficiency, because young Mrs. Repton won’t do it at all.”

“There is a young Mrs. Repton?”

“There is indeed-the decorative Scilla! One of the things I haven’t discovered is whether she spells it like the flower, or in the classical manner like Scylla and Charybdis. You see, quite a lot might depend on that.”

Miss Silver saw, but she made no comment. He continued.

“Roger was considered to have made a fool of himself when he married her. She is definitely not what you would expect to find in Tilling Green, and she makes no secret of the fact that the country bores her and she yearns for town. I imagine she didn’t know how little money there was going to be- especially when Valentine got married.”

“That will make a difference?”

“Oh, yes. I understand that she contributes very handsomely to the expenses.”

Miss Silver went on knitting.

“Just why are you telling me all this?” she said.

He smiled with a spice of malice.

“Don’t I always tell you everything?”

“Not unless you have a reason for doing so.”

“Perhaps I wanted to talk it out for my own benefit. Putting things into words straightens them out, and-you are always stimulating!”

She said, “I am wondering why you have described the household at the Manor whilst leaving the jumble sale and the congregation undescribed.”