The Ka of Gifford Hillary by Dennis Wheatley Page B

temporarily enmeshed by the glamour of maiding Ankaret, which was for her the jam on the bread and butter of ordinary housemaid’s work. But, of course, we also had two daily women in to help both her and in the kitchen. There was, too, the outdoor staff: old Eagers, who had once been head gardener of six, but now had to make do with a buxom land-girl and a boy; but the garden produce that was sold paid nearly half their wages. And Belton, of course, was carried by the firm. All thesame it was quite enough to have to pay out every week.
    Silvers was in his pantry, and having given him the wage packets for the indoor staff I took the others out to Eagers. In return the old boy handed over to me the week’s takings, which were falling off now that most of the fruit was over; but he told me that he hoped to do quite well with his grapes and chrysanthemums later in the year.
    After ten minutes’ chat with him about the garden I returned to the house and went into my library. It hardly justifies the name, as it is quite a small room at the corner of the house and only one of its walls is lined with books; two of the others have windows in them and the fourth a doorway that leads into Ankaret’s drawingroom.
    On Saturdays I don’t usually go to the office, but I often bring work home, and if there are people staying in the house I can shut myself up in the library secure from interruption. I have a big old-fashioned roll-topped desk there, which is not a very elegant piece of furniture but highly practical; as I can just slam the top down and lock it at any time without having to tidy up the papers on which I have been working. Opening it up, I put the garden money in the petty-cash box, emptied my brief-case of the papers I had brought back with me, and set to work on the bills.
    There were not many requiring immediate payment; so writing the cheques and envelopes, and a letter of condolence to a friend who had lost his wife a few days previously, took me only about twenty minutes. When I had done I locked the desk, then went over to the drinks cupboard in the corner, mixed a Dry Martini, and took it through to Ankaret.
    While we had our cocktails I told her about the meeting that afternoon. Of course, she knew nothing of my interview with Sir Charles, and I did not even hint to her that anything more than my own convictions had led me to take the line I had. In fact, when she said that she thought having forgone a handsome profit on ethical grounds did me great credit, I felt distinctly embarrassed; but I swiftly slid away from that aspect of the matter by making her laugh with a description of Admiral Waldron’s indignation.
    In due course I went up to have my bath and put on a smoking jacket; then, at eight o’clock, we went in to dinner. It was during the meal that I mentioned that Johnny wouldnot be leaving first thing in the morning but going up late on Saturday night; and Ankaret asked:
    ‘How is his affair with Sue Waldron going?’
    ‘I don’t really know,’ I replied. ‘But he seems as keen as mustard about her; and as he is a determined type of chap I should not be surprised to hear at any time that they’ve become engaged.’
    ‘It would be a good match for him; Sue is quite an heiress, isn’t she?’
    I nodded. ‘That may prove a snag, though. You can bet that the Admiral has been hoping she’ll marry someone with a place, or anyhow a chap who can afford to keep her in better style than could a Wing Commander with little but his pay. The old boy may dig his toes in; and I don’t think she’s got any money of her own.’
    ‘Oh, she’ll marry him if she wants to, and make her father give her an allowance into the bargain.’
    Somewhat surprised by Ankaret’s declaration, I glanced across at her. When we are alone we always sit at the sides of the table, so that we can see one another between the two candelabra. Against the dark background of the room, her pale face with its aureole of gently curling