But before doing so I took a stroll in the curious
old-world garden which flanked the house. Rows of very ancient
yew trees cut into strange designs girded it round. Inside was a
beautiful stretch of lawn with an old sundial in the middle, the
whole effect so soothing and restful that it was welcome to my
somewhat jangled nerves.
In that deeply peaceful atmosphere one could forget, or remember
only as some fantastic nightmare, that darkened study with the
sprawling, bloodstained figure on the floor. And yet, as I
strolled round it and tried to steep my soul in its gentle balm,
a strange incident occurred, which brought me back to the tragedy
and left a sinister impression in my mind.
I have said that a decoration of yew trees circled the garden.
At the end farthest from the house they thickened into a
continuous hedge. On the other side of this hedge, concealed
from the eyes of anyone approaching from the direction of the
house, there was a stone seat. As I approached the spot I was
aware of voices, some remark in the deep tones of a man, answered
by a little ripple of feminine laughter.
An instant later I had come round the end of the hedge and my
eyes lit upon Mrs.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104