Pitt sat down, simply to convey that he intended to remain until the conversation was concluded.

“Will you please tell me what happened between yourself and Miss Bellwood this morning, sir?” he asked. He wished the man would sit down, but perhaps he was too tense to remain in one position. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, even though he did not actually move from the spot on which he stood.

“Yes… yes,” Ramsay answered. “We quarreled, as I am afraid we did rather frequently.” His mouth tightened. “Miss Bellwood was a very fine scholar of ancient languages, but her theological opinions were unsound, and she insisted upon airing them, even though she was well aware that everyone in the house found them offensive… except perhaps my younger daughter. I am afraid Tryphena is rather willful and likes to feel she is independent in her thought… whereas in fact she is rather easily led by someone of Miss Bellwood’s power of conviction.”

“That must have been distressing for you,” Pitt observed, watching Ramsay’s face.

“It was most displeasing,” Ramsay agreed, but there was no increase of emotion in him. If he were angry he concealed it perfectly. Perhaps it had happened for so long he was used to it now.

“You quarreled,” Pitt prompted.

Ramsay shrugged. He was obviously unhappy, but there was no sign of anxiety in him, still less of actual fear. “Yes, rather fiercely. I am afraid I said some things to her which I now regret… in light of the fact that we no longer have the opportunity to find any resolution between us.” He bit his lip. “It is a very… very… unfortunate thing, Mr. Pitt, to find you have spoken in anger your last words to someone… the last words they will hear in their life… before entering the… hereafter.”

It was a strange speech for a man of religion. It was obviously without heat, even without certainty. He was searching for words and casting aside what to Pitt would have been the obvious ones. There was no mention of God or of judgment. Perhaps he was more deeply shocked than he pretended. If he had indeed killed her, as Braithwaite seemed to believe, then he should be in a state of inner numbness.