that fixed staring look.
When she was ready, Eily was still there. Jane began to feel that she needed shaking. A girl who was chambermaid at an inn which certainly contained some odd people ought to be a bit tougher than that. The Catherine-Wheel was no place for a sensitive plant—very few places were. If you had your living to earn you had to learn how to look after yourself, but it oughtn’t to have to come to stabbing, not even with nail-scissors. She said rather briskly,
“Come along, Eily—there’s no harm done.”
Eily looked down at the blood on her forefinger.
“It was only the little pair of scissors,” she said, “and no harm done at all.”
“Then what are you worrying about?”
She said, “Suppose I’d had a knife—”
This time the shudder was in her voice.
CHAPTER 11
As Jane passed the turn of the stairs on her way down, a cold wind came blowing up to meet her. She stopped half way, and saw the front door open and Luke White standing there with his back to her. She could see that it was Luke because of his grey waiter’s jacket. His left hand hung down and there was a handkerchief around it. His voice came back to her with the blowing wind—quite a polite, civilized voice for someone who had just been talking about cutting people’s hearts out. “I am sorry, madam, but I am afraid we have no room.”
Beyond him, still upon the doorstep, Jane could see a woman’s figure. A voice said, “Dear me!”
Jane came down the rest of the way into the hall and took a step or two along the narrow passage to the front door. There was something familiar about the voice with its very clear enunciation. She came right up to the door and saw a little woman in dowdy old-fashioned clothes, a well-worn fur tippet about her neck, a shabby handbag in one hand and a small fibre suit-case in the other.
She said, “Oh!” And then, “But I’ve met you, haven’t I—at Mrs. Moray’s? Your name—”
There was a faint prim cough.
“Miss Silver—Miss Maud Silver. And you are Miss Jane Heron?”
“Yes. Do come in, won’t you?”
“We haven’t any room, Miss Heron,” said Luke White. He spoke smoothly, but with an underlying impertinence which brought Jane’s head up.
Miss Silver stepped past him and set down her case.
“Pray shut the door.” Her tone was one of quiet authority.
She addressed herself to Jane.
“The wind is extremely chilly. I was on my way to keep an appointment, and after some difficulties with which I need not trouble you a gentleman very kindly gave me a lift in his car and recommended this hotel. He himself was going to stay with a Sir John Challoner who resides in this neighbourhood so it has all turned out most conveniently. I really do not feel able to proceed any farther tonight—so inclement, and I have no conveyance. But I shall be quite content with an armchair if there is no bedroom available.”
She had been walking down the passage as she spoke. They now emerged upon the small square hall. From the lounge door half open on the right there came the smell of coffee and the sound of voices. As Miss Silver turned with a pleased smile in this direction, Luke White pushed past her.
“That’s a private party in there. And we’ve no room—I told you we haven’t.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“I have no wish to intrude—” she began with dignity.
But before she could say anything more the half open door was thrown wide. Between Jeremy, who obviously intended to come out, and Jane, who obviously intended to come in, there really was no room for Luke White. He had a look of black anger as he slid past Jeremy into the lounge and made his way to where Fogarty Castell was standing beside the coffee-tray.
Jane had slipped her hand inside Miss Silver’s arm.
“Jeremy, this is Miss Silver whom I met at Mrs. Moray’s. She got held up on the road, and that horrible Luke White says there isn’t any room here. But we can manage something, can’t we?”
“I
When she was ready, Eily was still there. Jane began to feel that she needed shaking. A girl who was chambermaid at an inn which certainly contained some odd people ought to be a bit tougher than that. The Catherine-Wheel was no place for a sensitive plant—very few places were. If you had your living to earn you had to learn how to look after yourself, but it oughtn’t to have to come to stabbing, not even with nail-scissors. She said rather briskly,
“Come along, Eily—there’s no harm done.”
Eily looked down at the blood on her forefinger.
“It was only the little pair of scissors,” she said, “and no harm done at all.”
“Then what are you worrying about?”
She said, “Suppose I’d had a knife—”
This time the shudder was in her voice.
CHAPTER 11
As Jane passed the turn of the stairs on her way down, a cold wind came blowing up to meet her. She stopped half way, and saw the front door open and Luke White standing there with his back to her. She could see that it was Luke because of his grey waiter’s jacket. His left hand hung down and there was a handkerchief around it. His voice came back to her with the blowing wind—quite a polite, civilized voice for someone who had just been talking about cutting people’s hearts out. “I am sorry, madam, but I am afraid we have no room.”
Beyond him, still upon the doorstep, Jane could see a woman’s figure. A voice said, “Dear me!”
Jane came down the rest of the way into the hall and took a step or two along the narrow passage to the front door. There was something familiar about the voice with its very clear enunciation. She came right up to the door and saw a little woman in dowdy old-fashioned clothes, a well-worn fur tippet about her neck, a shabby handbag in one hand and a small fibre suit-case in the other.
She said, “Oh!” And then, “But I’ve met you, haven’t I—at Mrs. Moray’s? Your name—”
There was a faint prim cough.
“Miss Silver—Miss Maud Silver. And you are Miss Jane Heron?”
“Yes. Do come in, won’t you?”
“We haven’t any room, Miss Heron,” said Luke White. He spoke smoothly, but with an underlying impertinence which brought Jane’s head up.
Miss Silver stepped past him and set down her case.
“Pray shut the door.” Her tone was one of quiet authority.
She addressed herself to Jane.
“The wind is extremely chilly. I was on my way to keep an appointment, and after some difficulties with which I need not trouble you a gentleman very kindly gave me a lift in his car and recommended this hotel. He himself was going to stay with a Sir John Challoner who resides in this neighbourhood so it has all turned out most conveniently. I really do not feel able to proceed any farther tonight—so inclement, and I have no conveyance. But I shall be quite content with an armchair if there is no bedroom available.”
She had been walking down the passage as she spoke. They now emerged upon the small square hall. From the lounge door half open on the right there came the smell of coffee and the sound of voices. As Miss Silver turned with a pleased smile in this direction, Luke White pushed past her.
“That’s a private party in there. And we’ve no room—I told you we haven’t.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“I have no wish to intrude—” she began with dignity.
But before she could say anything more the half open door was thrown wide. Between Jeremy, who obviously intended to come out, and Jane, who obviously intended to come in, there really was no room for Luke White. He had a look of black anger as he slid past Jeremy into the lounge and made his way to where Fogarty Castell was standing beside the coffee-tray.
Jane had slipped her hand inside Miss Silver’s arm.
“Jeremy, this is Miss Silver whom I met at Mrs. Moray’s. She got held up on the road, and that horrible Luke White says there isn’t any room here. But we can manage something, can’t we?”
“I
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