“Did Miss Bellwood reply?”

“She shouted that he was an arbitrary old man.” She closed her eyes. The words obviously embarrassed her. “And he was too intellectually limited and emotionally crippled to be able to look with honesty at reality.” She hurried the words to get them out as quickly as she could. “That’s what she said, and wicked, ungrateful it was.” She stared at Pitt challengingly. “Where would she be, I’d like to know, if it wasn’t for gentlemen of importance, like Mr. Parmenter, giving her a chance to work for them?”

“I don’t know. Was there anything else?” he prompted.

Her lips tightened.

“I do realize you hate repeating her words, Miss Braithwaite, and that it is far from your own opinion.”

She shot him a look of gratitude. “Well, she said he was a spiritual coward trading in superstition and fairy stories because he had not the courage to face the truth,” she said bitterly.

“It sounds like a very unpleasant quarrel indeed,” he observed with a leaden feeling inside. “And you heard him follow Miss Bellwood out onto the landing?”

“I think so. I was trying not to hear. It… it wasn’t meant for anyone else, sir. I bent over and started putting the linen in the drawers. And I wouldn’t hear their feet, because the corridor and the landing’s carpeted. Next thing I heard was her giving a little cry, and then a sort of thump, and then her calling out.”

“What words did she call out?”

“I… I don’t know as I’m not sure now,” she equivocated, but the lie was naked in her face. She concentrated on her tea, setting the cup down carefully on the table near her.

“What did she say, Miss Braithwaite? I am sure you can remember if you try.”

She did not reply.