'Yes. I'm sorry. It was a shame.'

Ellie put on her indignant look.

'Shame! That fat sadist Dalziel doesn't know the meaning of the word.'

'It wasn't his fault. It's this string of break-ins we've been brought in on. The phone rang just as I was leaving.'

'So you said,’ grunted Ellie. 'Bloody queer time for a burglary. I bet Dalziel did it.'

'The break-in happened some time earlier in the week,’ explained Pascoe patiently. 'It was only discovered yesterday when the people got back from holiday.'

'Serves them right for coming back early. They should have stayed away for the week-end. Then we could have enjoyed all ours too.'

'I hope we will,' said Pascoe, smiling fondly at her. 'It'll be good to see them all again.'

'Yes, I think it will be. Especially for you,' said Ellie thoughtfully. 'You've been cut off too long.'

'Perhaps so. I didn't do all the cutting, mind. Anyway, cutting's the wrong image. They were always there. Like securely invested capital! I've never doubted that one day I would see them all again.'

'It took an accident to bring me to light again,' admonished Ellie.

'There is a something power which shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we may,' proclaimed Pascoe solemnly. 'Colin's not the only one who can quote.'

'Here's to it,' said Ellie, relaxing in the window-warmed light of the now completely triumphant sun.

We arrived at Thornton Lacey at eight-fifty. I noted the exact time as I looked at my watch to see how close to our forecast time of arrival we were. I suggested to Miss Soper that we should wait for half an hour before proceeding to Brookside Cottage, but after discussion we decided against this. Thus it must have been two or three minutes before nine o'clock when we reached the cottage. The curtains were all drawn and we received no reply to our knocks.