Tuppence thought to herself that Miss Packard was one of those people who would know how.

'They're like children, really,' said Miss Packard indulgently. 'Only children are far more logical which makes it difficult sometimes with them. But these people are illogical, they want to be reassured by your telling them what they want to believe. Then they're quite happy again for a bit. I've got a very nice staff here. People with patience, you know, and good temper, and not too brainy, because if you have people who are brainy they are bound to be very impatient. Yes, Miss Donovan, what is it?' She turned her head as a young woman with pince-nez came running down the stairs.

'It's Mrs. Lockett again, Miss Packard. She says she's dying and she wants the doctor called at once.'

'Oh,' said Miss Packard, unimpressed, 'what's she dying from this time?'

'She says there was mushroom in the stew yesterday and that there must have been fungi in it and that she's poisoned.'

'That's a new one,' said Miss Packard. 'I'd better come up and talk to her. So sorry to leave you, Mrs. Beresford. You'll find magazines and papers in that room.'

'Oh, I'll be quite all right,' said Tuppence.

She went into the room that had been indicated to her. It was a pleasant room overlooking the garden with French windows that opened on it. There were easy chairs, bowls of flowers on the tables. One wall had a bookshelf containing a mixture of modern novels and travel books, and also what might be described as old favourites, which possibly many of the inmates might be glad to meet again. There were magazines on a table.

At the moment there was only one occupant in the room. An old lady with white hair combed back off her face who was sitting in a chair, holding a glass of milk in her hand, and looking at it. She had a pretty pink and white face, and she smiled at Tuppence in a friendly manner.