A faint smile passed over the girl’s face. ‘Oh, you needn’t be alarmed,’ she said. ‘He’s safely dead, poor darling. He was Aunt Kitty’s husband. And my mother’s brother,’ she interpolated a little defiantly. ‘That photograph was taken when he was a young man. It was probably considered funny then. He was president of some early frothblowers’ association, or something.’ She paused and eyed Mr Campion squarely. ‘The family always considered that Aunt Kitty married beneath her. She didn’t, though, as a matter of fact; not in my opinion, anyhow. Uncle Robert was a doctor with a poor practice. Well, Aunt Kitty kept that photograph and had it enlarged. Uncle Robert was rather proud of it, I believe, and it used to hang in his den. And when he died Aunt Kitty brought it here with her. Nothing wou
