CHAPTER 45“She never stops talking,” said Frank Abbott. “It’s pretty grim. They’ve got her in the Infirmary—she just goes on and on and on. Detailed accounts of everything for the last twenty years.”
Miss Silver sighed.
“An extremely shocking case,” she said.
It was the evening of a crowded day. They sat in the drawing-room at the White Cottage, Frank stretched out in the largest chair, Miss Silver primly upright with her knitting in her lap. Mrs. Merridew was still with Lucy Cunningham, and would remain there until she had seen her settled for the night. The coffee-tray stood at Frank’s elbow, and a pleasant fire burned upon the hearth. He said,
“The Chief Constable wouldn’t believe it, you know. Said she had gone off her head, and the whole thing was just a painful delusion. Even the
