When he had finished Chloe sat quite still for a moment, saying nothing; and neither of the men dreamed of hurrying her.
At last: "But, Dr. Anstice--Tochatti! Why, she has been with me for years--ever since I was a child like Cherry!"
Her voice was so full of incredulity that for a moment both her hearers wondered suddenly how they could have accepted the possibility of Tochatti's guilt so readily. But Anstice's common sense reasserted itself immediately; and he knew that the mere fact of Mrs. Carstairs' unbelief did not really materially alter the main issue. It was natural she should be surprised, unwilling to believe evil of the woman who, whatever her faults, had served her faithfully; but this was no time for sentimentality; and he replied to Chloe's last speech rather uncompromisingly.
"Even the fact that she has been with you for years does not preclude the possibility of her doing this thing," he said. "Of course I can understand you would hesitate to believe her capable of such wickedness, but----"
"But why should Tochatti wish to work me harm?" Her blue eyes were full of a kind of hurt wonder. "And these last letters directed against you, Dr. Anstice--why on earth should she have any spite against you?"
"Dr. Anstice tells me she much resented the presence of the hospital nurse in the house," chimed in Sir Richard. "Of course she has always been absurdly jealous of any claim to Cherry's affection--even Iris noticed that and used to say she hardly dared to pet the child before Tochatti."
"Yes." Chloe assented reluctantly. "That is quite true. She has always been jealous; and I confess I once or twice saw her look at Dr. Anstice with a--well, rather malignant expression. But I thought it was only a passing jealousy; and judged it best to take no notice."
"Of course all this is very largely conjectural," said Anstice slowly. "Such evidence as we have is purely circumstantial; and wouldn't hang a cat. But I admit that Mr. Clive's suggestion carries weight with me; and it is certainly odd that he should have mentioned an Italian as the possible author of the letters when there is a person of that nationality--more or less--in the house."
"Yes. I can see that for myself." Chloe's voice was low. "But to be quite candid, I don't see how it would be possible to bring the letters home to Tochatti. To begin with, she can't write."
"Or pretends she can't. You must remember, Mrs. Carstairs, we have only the woman's own word for that."