She had not the time to appreciate that the white-robed figure was brandishing a violin, and that the violin was descending very quickly and with great force toward her own head. Before she could take in any of this, the violin made contact with her skull, blackness overwhelmed her and she fell, unconscious, to the floor.

With her arms sprawled any old how, and her neat white handkerchief still tucked inside her watch strap, she looked as though there wasn’t a drop of life left in her. Little puffs of dust that had come up from the carpet when she landed fell gently back down.

There she lay for a good half hour, until the Missus, back from the farm where she had been to collect eggs, happened to glance in at the door and see a dark shape where she hadn’t seen a dark shape before.

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