Chapter SeventeenNot A Fit Night—
“What’s it all about, anyway?” asked Mrs. Barrelforth. “It sounds to me like a case for the Association.”
“As what isn’t?” murmured Sybil.
“Where did you find the note, Mrs. Barrelforth?” asked Tim.
“In what I presume is the guest room,” said Mrs. Barrelforth. “It was pinned to the pincushion on the dressing-table. Therefore, it must have been left by someone who thought that was your bedroom. Therefore, it must have been someone unfamiliar with the house.”
“Not necessarily,” said Sybil. “I usually use that room as my dressing-room.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Barrelforth. “Didn’t realize I was putting you out. Pity. In that case, we’ll have to reverse our field. The note must have been left by someone who was familiar with the house but didn’t know I was going
