would you say? Not facing up to things. Running away from life.â
âThereâs always that, I suppose.â
âNot my idea of a life. The superintendent called it a living death.â He pulled the eiderdown up. âCanât see you going in one either, dear.â
âOh, I donât know,â said his wife.
âWhat do you mean?â
âSuppose something had happened to you after we got engaged. What should I have done then, do you think? A living death wouldnât have mattered very much then, would it?â
He turned to face her, oddly disconcerted. âI ⦠I hadnât thought of that.â
She snuggled down in the bed. âMind you,â she said sleepily, âI donât think I would have made a very good nun.â
Marwin Ranbyâs study at the Agricultural Institute looked almost as comfortable in daylight as it had done in the cozy, shaded light of last evening. There was a young woman with him. She had pale auburn hair and the delicate, almost translucent skin that often goes with it. The clothes she was wearing were deceptively, ridiculously simple, and Sloan was not at all surprised to find himself being introduced to Miss Celia Faine, the last of her line and Marwin Ranbyâs fiancée.
âI have been telling Miss Faine something of last nightâs excitement,â said the Principal.
âBut, I suspect, not everything,â said Celia Faine with a smile. She had a pleasant, unaffected voice. âMarwinâs being very discreet, Inspector.â
âIâm glad to hear it, miss,â responded Sloan.
âOr should I say âmysteriousâ? Itâs because he thinks I should mind. But I know his boys get up to all sorts of things. They wouldnât be boys if they didnât, would they? I donât think the Sisters would mind either if they did hear about itâtheyâre perfectly sweet, you know, and soâsort of balanced, if you know what I mean. You feel they are finished with the petty, trivial things that donât matter. It isnât as if it was a demonstration against them or anything. Nobody minded them coming to Cullingoak, and we had to do something with the house. In fact, I think people are glad theyâre there in a way.â
âCelia thinks their sanctity balances out the devilment in my young men,â said Ranby lightly, matching her tone, âbut Iâm not so sure myself. Until last night I wouldnât have thought they were even aware of them. We hear their bell on a clear dayâthat usually provokes a crack or two about getting the cows inâbut nothing more.â
âWhat about last night?â asked Sloan.
âNo news, Inspector. None of my staff knew anything about the guy.â
âYou have other means of finding out?â
âNaturally. I can if necessary interview the whole lot, but that takes time. I was hoping to appeal to them at supper tonightâitâs the first meal that they will all be at together. I have already checked that no one had a late pass on Wednesday night.â
âIs that infallible? My experience is that it isnât as a rule.â
âRumor has it the Biology Laboratory window can be persuaded to open if pressure is judiciously applied in the right place.â
âIâll get my constable to fingerprint it straight away.â
âYou really want this chap, donât you?â
âYes,â said Sloan shortly. âWe do.â
Strelitz Square was still a square in the sense that its Georgian creator had intended, and there was still a garden in the middle. The houses were tall, dignified andâmost significant of allâstill lived in. Number Seventeen was on the north side, facing the thin November sun. Sloan and Crosby rang the bell at exactly ten-thirty the next morning. An elderly aproned maid answered the door.
He didnât mention the Convent this time.