Judging from Miss Maunsell's expression when she delivered this statement, she would never taste fish again.
"Were you always on good enough terms with Mr. Barr, in spite of not quite approving his conduct, or did you ever give him a piece of your mind?" inquired the detective, in a friendly way.
"We never had any words," said Miss Maunsell. "And it wasn't so much his conduct I disapproved, as his character. I consider myself something of a judge; and from the first moment I ever set eyes on Mr. Barr, said I to myself, Here's a young man might do anything, if in a passion. He had eyes like—like wells of fire, if there could be such things; and when he frowned, his eyebrows, that were drawn straight across his forehead as though by a pointed piece of charcoal, used to come together across the bridge of his nose. I've seen him when he was angry, with his nostrils quivering as if he was a vicious horse."
"Did you often see him like that?" asked the cherubic Mr. Gaylor, more and more interested, more and more glad that he had been sent to Harrogate.
"Well, no," the housekeeper reflected aloud. "I can't say I did. Two or three times, perhaps. Twice in particular. I shall never forget either of those occasions."
"I should be very glad if you would tell me about them," the detective suggested, mildly.
