"Tell me," she enquired, "I do not know much about these matters,
but have you any papers to prove that it was sold to your father
and that you have the right to occupy it now when you choose?"

He smiled.

"Of course I have," he assured her. "As a matter of fact, as none
of us have been here for so long, I thought I'd better bring the
title-deed, or whatever they call it, along with me. It's with the
rest of my traps at Norwich. Oh, the place belongs to me, right
enough!" he went on, smiling. "Don't tell me that any one's pulled
it down, or that it's disappeared from the face of the earth?"

"No," she said, "it still remains there. When we are round the next
curve, I think I can show it to you. But every one has forgotten,
I think, that it doesn't belong to Mr. Fentolin still. He uses it
himself very often."

"What for?"

She looked at her questioner quite steadfastly, quite quietly,
speechlessly. A curious uneasiness crept into his thoughts. There
were mysterious things in her face. He knew from that moment that
she, too, directly or indirectly, was concerned with those strange
happenings at which Kinsley had hinted. He knew that there were
things which she was keeping from him now.

"Mr. Fentolin uses one of the rooms as a studio. He likes to paint
there and be near the sea," she explained. "But for the rest, I do
not know. I never go near the place."