Dear Miss Blacklog is, perhaps, just a shade too trusting."
Miss Marple shook her head.
"That's a mistake."
"Yes, it is.
You and I, Miss Marple, know the world.
Dear Miss Blacklog -" She shook her head.
Miss Marple thought that as the secretary of a big financier Miss Blacklog might be presumed to know the world too.
But probably what Dora Bunner meant was that Letty Blacklog had always been comfortably off, and that the comfortably off do not know the deeper abysses of human nature.
"That Patrick!" said Miss Bunner with a suddenness and an asperity that made Miss Marple jump.
"Twice, at least, to my knowledge, he's got money out of her.
Pretending he's hard up.
Run into debt.
All that sort of thing.
She's far too generous.
All she said to me when I remonstrated with her was:
'The boy's young, Dora.
Youth is the time to have your fling.'"
"Well, that's true enough," said Miss Marple.
"Such a handsome young man, too."
"Handsome is as handsome does," said Dora Bunner.
"Much too fond of poking fun at people.
And a lot of going on with girls. I expect.
I'm just a figure of fun to him - that's all.
He doesn't seem to realise that people have their feelings."
"Young people are rather careless that way," said Miss Marple.
Miss Bunner leaned forward suddenly with a mysterious air.
"You won't breathe a word, will you, my dear?" she demanded.
"But I can't help feeling that he was mixed up in this dreadful business.
I think he knew that young man - or else Julia did.
I daren't hint at such a thing to dear Miss Blacklog - at least I did, and she just snapped my head off.
And, of course, it's awkward - because he's her nephew - or at any rate her cousin - and if the Swiss young man shot himself Patrick might be held morally responsible, mightn't he?
If he'd put him up to it, I mean.
I'm really terribly confused about the whole thing.
Everyone making such a fuss about that other door into the drawing-room.
That's another thing that worries me - the detective saying it had been oiled.
Because you see, I saw -" She came to an abrupt stop.
Miss Marple paused to select a phrase.
"Most difficult for you," she said sympathetically.
"Naturally you wouldn't want anything to get round to the police."
"That's just it," Dora Bunner cried.
"I lie awake at nights and worry... because, you see, I came upon Patrick in the shrubbery the other day.
I was looking for eggs - one hen lays out - and there he was holding a feather and a cup - an oily cup.
And he jumped most guiltily when he saw me and he said:
'I was just wondering what this was doing here.'
Well, of course, he's a quick thinker.
I should say he thought that up quickly when I startled him.
And how did he come to find a thing like that in the shrubbery unless he was looking for it, knowing perfectly well it was there.
Of course, I didn't say anything."
"No, no, of course not."
"But I gave him a look, if you know what I mean."