12 : What Shall We Do?It was Belle who found the body; sweet, friendly old Belle with her white Breton cap aflutter from the breeze in the garden and her skirts held up a little to escape the dewy grasses on the sides of the path.
She paused for a moment on the Potter step to break off a dead rose hip left over from the autumn on the rather straggly seven-sister tree which grew over the porch.
Then, mildly surprised at receiving no answer to her knock, she went round to the scullery door, which stood open. “Claire, my dear,” she called. “Claire, are you busy? May I come in?”
Her voice fluttered round the little building and was silent, and after waiting expectantly for a moment or so she went in and passed through to the studio.
Claire Potter lay face downward on the divan, her arms li
