CHAPTER FIFTEENFloral Belles
Malcolm received the onslaught with aplomb. He patted Elena affectionately on the head and said he knew, and that it was too bad.
“But, David, what shall we do? It isn’t like a murder that happened a long time ago. I feel as if I were going crazy. It happened right here, right upstairs, while the Nagles and I were in the dining-room.”
“And Mr. Leeder?” Malcolm was looking at Gamadge above Elena’s topknot.
“Roly’d gone off again somewhere. He’s sitting in there with the Nagles now, in the library, and he won’t say a word; I never saw him like this. They’re all different. Uncle Gavan is wandering around all bent over like an old man. Aunt Cynthia is in her room crying. Crying! I didn’t know she could. Father’s in an awful state; he’s lying down, and he won’t
