against the wall and various instruments of nautical interest hung from the walls. I had burgled many a home as fine and as fashionable as this one but never before had I been invited into one as a guest. The man who followed Tom and myself into the house shut the door behind us before taking our coats and hats. There was a number of hatstands along this hallway and I noticed some more of those curious red bowlers hanging from them. Slade meanwhile continued to bully Morris Bolter for what appeared to be our amusement.
‘I don’t recall telling you to make yourself comfortable, Morris,’ he said as he snatched the brandy glass away from the smaller man. ‘You’ve enough chores to keep you occupied until doomsday, I would’ve thought. Where is Miss Gay? She should be here to greet our callers.’
‘She’s upstairs,’ Bolter sniffed after producing a handkerchief and rubbing at the spillage. ‘Getting painted again. Yer asked me togreet the gentlemen , remember?’ He glanced over at Tom as he said this and curled his lip. Then he lowered his voice and addressed Slade in a dark manner. ‘While yer other men are down at the bottom of the garden,’ his smile was cruel as he whispered. ‘Seeing to yer guests.’
‘Very good,’ nodded Slade and then turned to give Tom and myself a small bow. ‘I have some quick business I must attend to in the outhouse, gentlemen. Perhaps meanwhile Mr Bolter will show you through to the sitting room,’ he pointed towards the shut door behind where the peculiar string music was heard, ‘and you will have whatever you desire.’ Another toothy grin cracked out across his face. ‘We serve all the poisons.’
So that is what a harp sounds like, I thought, as we was led into the plush and smoky sitting room and saw what was making such an agreeable sound. I had often seen such things illustrated in books but until now I had no idea of their tallness and just how marvellous they sounded when played by someone with talent. In the far corner of the well-furnished room was a gifted young lady, dressed only in a loose bedsheet and holding onto the neck of her instrument with one hand while strumming at the strings with the other. She was being ogled by one ancient old gent from the settee opposite who looked old enough to have been born when togas was in fashion. This pug-nosed fellow puffed on his cigar and paid neither Tom nor me any mind as we sat ourselves on nearby chairs. There was also two more half-dressed young ladies draped either side of the old reprobate and one was filling up his flute glass with more champagne.
‘We’ll have some bubbles an’ all please, Morris,’ I said to Bolter as he slouched over to the drinks cabinet in his sullen way. ‘The best you got.’ I pulled over a fancy foot-rest and stretched out on the chair as he popped open another cork and muttered to himself.He must have been most disgruntled to be serving me after the unpleasantness of our last meeting and was doing little to disguise it. ‘Take a sip yourself if you care to,’ I went on pretending to ignore his attitude. ‘I won’t tell no one.’
The door opened behind us and I turned to see what lovely visions was approaching us. But even if I had of been entertaining wicked thoughts about betraying Lily in this den of iniquity – which I swear I never was – then they was soon dashed when I saw what was being offered. It was two girls, both very pretty and smiling all sweet with their powdered faces and little nightdresses on. The eldest of the two came up to where I was sitting and enquired whether or not I wanted company for the night. She could not have been older than twelve.
‘No thank you, dear,’ I replied in a thin voice. ‘You run along and play.’
They turned and left the room again and I looked back to Bolter in disgust. ‘Not funny, Morris,’ I said. ‘They was kinchins.’ He sniggered as he poured the champagne glasses to the brim and brought them
‘I don’t recall telling you to make yourself comfortable, Morris,’ he said as he snatched the brandy glass away from the smaller man. ‘You’ve enough chores to keep you occupied until doomsday, I would’ve thought. Where is Miss Gay? She should be here to greet our callers.’
‘She’s upstairs,’ Bolter sniffed after producing a handkerchief and rubbing at the spillage. ‘Getting painted again. Yer asked me togreet the gentlemen , remember?’ He glanced over at Tom as he said this and curled his lip. Then he lowered his voice and addressed Slade in a dark manner. ‘While yer other men are down at the bottom of the garden,’ his smile was cruel as he whispered. ‘Seeing to yer guests.’
‘Very good,’ nodded Slade and then turned to give Tom and myself a small bow. ‘I have some quick business I must attend to in the outhouse, gentlemen. Perhaps meanwhile Mr Bolter will show you through to the sitting room,’ he pointed towards the shut door behind where the peculiar string music was heard, ‘and you will have whatever you desire.’ Another toothy grin cracked out across his face. ‘We serve all the poisons.’
So that is what a harp sounds like, I thought, as we was led into the plush and smoky sitting room and saw what was making such an agreeable sound. I had often seen such things illustrated in books but until now I had no idea of their tallness and just how marvellous they sounded when played by someone with talent. In the far corner of the well-furnished room was a gifted young lady, dressed only in a loose bedsheet and holding onto the neck of her instrument with one hand while strumming at the strings with the other. She was being ogled by one ancient old gent from the settee opposite who looked old enough to have been born when togas was in fashion. This pug-nosed fellow puffed on his cigar and paid neither Tom nor me any mind as we sat ourselves on nearby chairs. There was also two more half-dressed young ladies draped either side of the old reprobate and one was filling up his flute glass with more champagne.
‘We’ll have some bubbles an’ all please, Morris,’ I said to Bolter as he slouched over to the drinks cabinet in his sullen way. ‘The best you got.’ I pulled over a fancy foot-rest and stretched out on the chair as he popped open another cork and muttered to himself.He must have been most disgruntled to be serving me after the unpleasantness of our last meeting and was doing little to disguise it. ‘Take a sip yourself if you care to,’ I went on pretending to ignore his attitude. ‘I won’t tell no one.’
The door opened behind us and I turned to see what lovely visions was approaching us. But even if I had of been entertaining wicked thoughts about betraying Lily in this den of iniquity – which I swear I never was – then they was soon dashed when I saw what was being offered. It was two girls, both very pretty and smiling all sweet with their powdered faces and little nightdresses on. The eldest of the two came up to where I was sitting and enquired whether or not I wanted company for the night. She could not have been older than twelve.
‘No thank you, dear,’ I replied in a thin voice. ‘You run along and play.’
They turned and left the room again and I looked back to Bolter in disgust. ‘Not funny, Morris,’ I said. ‘They was kinchins.’ He sniggered as he poured the champagne glasses to the brim and brought them
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