“I’m delighted you approve,” said Rollison mildly.

“I approve very much. There is another thing I would like you to do for me, Richard.”

“What is it?”

“Bring those two unfortunate women here.”

“To the Marigold Club?” Rollison asked, not really surprised.

“Yes. They will be much safer and will certainly be subjected to much less annoyance and publicity,” said his aunt. “I have two adjoining rooms ready for them on the second floor. When do you think they can be here?”

“I really don’t know, Aunt,” Rollison answered. “The Features Editor of The Day took pity on them, and I imagine is now offering them a fortune for their story.”

“Far more than it’s worth, I’ve no doubt,” Lady Hurst prophesied. “But they’ll need all the money they can get. Find them, Richard. I would like them both here as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Aunt,” said Rollison meekly, hearing the telephone click as she rang off.

He put the receiver down slowly, aware of Lucifer Stride watching him, of Jolly going back to the kitchen, of Mrs Abbott having a second cup of coffee. His aunt’s voice seemed to echo in his ears; she was right, too. The two women would need all the money they could get. And this pointed to a strange, almost bewildering fact. Madam Melinska and Mona Lister had lured thousands to the Court; they were front page news. These were the days in which a well-known astrologer could make a very good income indeed from a column in almost any newspaper or magazine.

Why, then, were these two so poor?

He moved across to Mrs Abbott, who now gave the impression that she was on the defensive; Rollison could not make up his mind whether to bully or to humour her and decided on humouring, at least for the time being.

“Did your husband see Madam Melinska very often?”

“Often enough.”

“Was she a popular seer?”

“Too popular, if you ask me.”