Читать книгу The Perfect World. A romance of strange people and strange places онлайн

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“And so you are going to?”

The woman looked round her fearfully. “I’ve a spare bedroom, sir, which I’ve cleaned up, and they can have my parlour. But fancy, sir, two strangers in Marshfielden!”

“It will liven things up,” remarked the vicar “we’ve never had strangers to live here since I came—now over forty years ago.”

“No, sir, nor before that,” went on the woman in a low tone. “My grandmother used to speak of two ladies who came to Marshfielden when she was a little girl. Artists they were, and strangers. The clergyman’s wife put them up—and—and—”

“Yes?” urged Mr. Winthrop gently.

“Well, sir, they were both found dead one day, stiff and cold, sir, outside the ruins of the Priory. They had been painting, and their easels were left standing—but they were dead.”

“What has that to do with the case?” asked the vicar with a little smile.

“Don’t you see, sir,” she went on quickly, the same half-scared look coming into her eyes, “that was the ‘Curse’ that caused those mishaps, and I am afraid the ‘Curse’ will be on the two young gentlemen, too.”