"Who's there?" cried Rachel. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. There never is much left for me. If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath. I must stay a minute longer, if only to see you smile. They’ll know. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. ‘Very well, arrest me. “You are coming in, aren’t you, Sydney?” “If I may,” he answered. He returned, “Lucy, you knew I didn’t live anywhere near you?” “I was aware.
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