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our premises. This could be quite a nuisance.”
    â€œI can’t understand how the thief gets in and out without Desmond noticing.” Violet waved her hands in agitation. “I know he’s not much of a gardener, but he has two perfectly good eyes.”
    â€œI’ll have a word with him,” Elizabeth promised. “I’ll warn him to keep a lookout.”
    â€œMight I suggest that if you’d let those abominable hounds of yours loose outside instead of mollycoddling them in the house all the time,” Martin observed, “perhaps we wouldn’t have to worry so much about trespassers.”
    â€œI’m afraid George and Gracie are much more likely to play with the intruder than chase him off.” Elizabeth leaned down to pat the soft head of the nearest dog by her feet.
    â€œWell, for once Martin’s right. You do treat them like children.” Violet turned back to the stove. “No wonder they’re no good as guard dogs.”
    The dogs were her babies, Elizabeth thought fondly. Hers and Earl’s. The closest she’d ever come to sharing a family with him. The thought of him brought a stab of anxiety. With each passing hour now she worried more about his safety. Never had he been absent this long without somehow getting word to her that he was safe. She was dreadfully afraid—She cut off the thought before it had time to form. There was no need to tempt fate. He would return to her. It was as simple as that.
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The next morning Elizabeth awoke with a feeling of foreboding that would not go away, no matter how hard she tried to focus on other matters. After ringing George at the station and giving him an awkward report of the missing undergarments, she went down to the kitchen, where she found Polly and Sadie in an outrage at the loss of yet more of their precious clothes.
    â€œWhy would he take just the knickers?” Polly demanded, close to tears. “Why didn’t he take all the other clothes?”
    Elizabeth exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Violet, who immediately turned back to the stove.
    â€œBecause he’s blooming batty,” Sadie said. “A nutter. He belongs in the loony bin.”
    â€œWell, I suppose that might be a safer place for him than running around our grounds,” Elizabeth agreed. “In the meantime, I want you girls to be extra careful. Don’t go outside alone, and be on the watch for a stranger. He could be dangerous.”
    Polly looked scared, while Sadie seemed more furious than afraid. “Just let me get me flipping hands on him,” she muttered. “I’ll teach him to pinch me drawers.”
    â€œYou’ll do no such thing,” Violet said briskly. “If you see someone stealing something like that you report him immediately to the constables.”
    â€œAnd by the time they got up here,” Sadie said, nudging Polly, “he’d be long gone. I say we catch him ourselves and teach him a lesson.”
    Polly’s face was drawn with anxiety, but she offered no resistance to Sadie’s defiant statement.
    â€œSadie, I really don’t think—” Elizabeth got no further, as just then the telephone shrilled, startling them all.
    Violet reached for the receiver, while Elizabeth stood helpless, heart pounding, her leap of hope impossible to subdue. She watched her housekeeper speak into the telephone, then pause to listen, her head tilted to one side.
    â€œI’ll give her the message,” she said at last, and hung up the telephone.
    The disappointment was crushing, and Elizabeth struggled to keep her voice steady as she asked, “Who was that?”
    â€œIt was George.” Violet glanced at the girls, then said quietly, “We’re not the only one to lose our drawers. Seems quite a few women have had them stolen off the washing lines. George is worried. He thinks we have a lunatic loose in the village.”
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In spite of the warm