like a scarlet jewel. Laura was enchanted. The place was an enchanted place. If she could only have been there alone—
She turned reluctantly from the window and followed Tanis to the door through which Miss Fane had made her entrance the night before. Open, it disclosed an empty room with a polished floor, whose octagon shape showed only on the side towards the church, the right-hand side being flattened off to take the lift. On the left two archaic lancet windows flanked by straight crimson curtains looked into the church, and between them, partly concealed by the velvet folds, was a stout oak door with a heavy iron lock and hinges.
Tanis pushed aside the curtains, turned a portentous key, and pulled the door towards her. It opened without a sound. Somehow Laura had expected the hinges to groan and the key to grate in the lock, but there wasn’t a sound. She was to remember that afterwards.
She moved, and found herself at the top of eight or nine steps leading down into the church. Immediately she had the feeling that she had seen this place before. Only there was something wrong about it. She ought to be standing down there on the rough grass looking up at the steps. It came to her that she had dreamed about standing at the bottom of the steps, and that the dream had frightened her.
Tanis was saying, “The drop to the church is a bit of a surprise, isn’t it? But the house is built up on a plinth to make room for cellars underneath. The seventeenth century was great on cellars.”
As she spoke, the telephone bell rang. She stepped back and went through the door which had faced them as they came from the drawing-room, leaving it open behind her. Laura caught a glimpse of pale, unusual panelling and sea-green curtains—windows looking to the front of the house and into the church. She stood where she was, not liking to follow, and heard Tanis say in a warm, pleased voice,
“Oh, Tim—it’s you!”
She moved towards the drawing-room, but before she could reach the door Tanis was speaking again.
“Oh, yes, you’re going to see me. Come over and dance tonight. We’ve got a houseful… Yes, of course I mean Sylvia too. Better come to dinner. I expect the food will go round, and if it’s rabbit you won’t know, because Mrs. Dean camouflages it till nobody can swear they’re not eating pheasant or anything else she likes to call it. Actually, I believe, we’ve really got pheasant, so now you can just keep guessing… Well, you’ll be over at eight?… That will be divine. Love to Sylvia.”
She rang off, and found Laura in the drawing-room.
“How tactful! But I never talk compromising secrets with the door open. That was Tim Madison. He and Sylvia are dining, and we’ll dance afterwards. He’s Navy—waiting for a board to pass him fit for sea again after being bombed or torpedoed or something. He’s practically all right again. Irish, and the most perfect partner.”
“And Sylvia?”
Tanis shrugged.
“His wife. That’s the trouble with sailors—they will marry.”
“Don’t you like her?”
Tanis laughed with genuine amusement.
“I should adore anyone Tim had married.”
chapter 16
Tanis went away, and with suspicious promptness Carey walked in.
“Go and get a coat and I’ll show you the ruins.”
He saw her hesitate. She said,
“I don’t know—”
“I do. Go and get that coat. We’ve got to talk, and it’s quite a good excuse.”
She ran upstairs feeling a little as if she were playing hide-and-seek. But it was no good, she had got to talk to Carey. Quite as passionately as Mrs. Slade she longed to be back in London where nobody noticed where you went or whom you met.
In the passage outside her bedroom she almost ran into Miss Adams, who was emerging from her own room opposite. Stopping to apologize, she found herself unwillingly engaged in conversation. Since Cousin Lucy quite obviously disliked her, it was impossible to guess why she should wish to converse. It was
She turned reluctantly from the window and followed Tanis to the door through which Miss Fane had made her entrance the night before. Open, it disclosed an empty room with a polished floor, whose octagon shape showed only on the side towards the church, the right-hand side being flattened off to take the lift. On the left two archaic lancet windows flanked by straight crimson curtains looked into the church, and between them, partly concealed by the velvet folds, was a stout oak door with a heavy iron lock and hinges.
Tanis pushed aside the curtains, turned a portentous key, and pulled the door towards her. It opened without a sound. Somehow Laura had expected the hinges to groan and the key to grate in the lock, but there wasn’t a sound. She was to remember that afterwards.
She moved, and found herself at the top of eight or nine steps leading down into the church. Immediately she had the feeling that she had seen this place before. Only there was something wrong about it. She ought to be standing down there on the rough grass looking up at the steps. It came to her that she had dreamed about standing at the bottom of the steps, and that the dream had frightened her.
Tanis was saying, “The drop to the church is a bit of a surprise, isn’t it? But the house is built up on a plinth to make room for cellars underneath. The seventeenth century was great on cellars.”
As she spoke, the telephone bell rang. She stepped back and went through the door which had faced them as they came from the drawing-room, leaving it open behind her. Laura caught a glimpse of pale, unusual panelling and sea-green curtains—windows looking to the front of the house and into the church. She stood where she was, not liking to follow, and heard Tanis say in a warm, pleased voice,
“Oh, Tim—it’s you!”
She moved towards the drawing-room, but before she could reach the door Tanis was speaking again.
“Oh, yes, you’re going to see me. Come over and dance tonight. We’ve got a houseful… Yes, of course I mean Sylvia too. Better come to dinner. I expect the food will go round, and if it’s rabbit you won’t know, because Mrs. Dean camouflages it till nobody can swear they’re not eating pheasant or anything else she likes to call it. Actually, I believe, we’ve really got pheasant, so now you can just keep guessing… Well, you’ll be over at eight?… That will be divine. Love to Sylvia.”
She rang off, and found Laura in the drawing-room.
“How tactful! But I never talk compromising secrets with the door open. That was Tim Madison. He and Sylvia are dining, and we’ll dance afterwards. He’s Navy—waiting for a board to pass him fit for sea again after being bombed or torpedoed or something. He’s practically all right again. Irish, and the most perfect partner.”
“And Sylvia?”
Tanis shrugged.
“His wife. That’s the trouble with sailors—they will marry.”
“Don’t you like her?”
Tanis laughed with genuine amusement.
“I should adore anyone Tim had married.”
chapter 16
Tanis went away, and with suspicious promptness Carey walked in.
“Go and get a coat and I’ll show you the ruins.”
He saw her hesitate. She said,
“I don’t know—”
“I do. Go and get that coat. We’ve got to talk, and it’s quite a good excuse.”
She ran upstairs feeling a little as if she were playing hide-and-seek. But it was no good, she had got to talk to Carey. Quite as passionately as Mrs. Slade she longed to be back in London where nobody noticed where you went or whom you met.
In the passage outside her bedroom she almost ran into Miss Adams, who was emerging from her own room opposite. Stopping to apologize, she found herself unwillingly engaged in conversation. Since Cousin Lucy quite obviously disliked her, it was impossible to guess why she should wish to converse. It was
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