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The girl had been sitting there for some time, staring intently at the rosebush.
"Interesting, isn't it?" said Jane Marple, eventually.
The blonde teenager glanced up. "Shh. You'll scare them away."
Miss Marple didn't ask what. Instead, she examined the rosebush herself. Watching closely, she caught the odd movement, a stem bending under the weight of something unseen, and it couldn't have been anything to do with the wind, which was blowing from a westerly direction to day, and in any case, never bent back single stems in that manner. She gave her a smile. "Of course," she said, "my eyesight isn't what it was, but something leapt from that flower to the other – I wouldn't mind telling it not to be quite so careless with the petals."
"They're not dangerous," the girl said. "Not usually. Not this kind."
Jane had a twinkle in her eye. "I'm relieved to hear it. Perhaps you would like to come inside and I'll find a glass of lemonade and some cake, and you can explain to me exactly what they are – and perhaps I could help you. I've seen your father about the place and he does seem to wear a persecuted air, doesn't he, poor man – so like Mr Roberts from the chemist's, and as it turned out, he was terribly in debt."
"Perhaps," said the girl, getting to her feet. "I don't know. Lemonade would be nice, thank you. And cake."
Miss Marple led the way back into her cottage. "Yes. Well, why don't we see? Often lemonade and cake and someone to talk to is quite a help in itself – and you might be surprised if you knew the way I've so often managed to get myself involved in quite dreadful affairs. One does see things, living in a village - and there is such wickedness hidden in the most unexpected people."
"They're Invisible Implets," Luna said, in her soft voice, slipping her arm into the elderly lady's. "In your rosebush, I mean, but they won't do any harm. Don't make them leave."
"If they won't do any harm," Jane Marple said, with another smile, "then I won't."