with us,' said Sylvia.
The doctor's gaze went to Sylvia. Something like a very faint smile came to his lips but passed almost immediately.
'I should keep her with you as long as possible,' he said gravely.
Frankie was sitting between her host and Dr Nicholson.
Henry Bassington-ffrench was decidedly moody tonight. His hands twitched, he ate next to nothing and he took no part in the conversation.
Mrs Nicholson, opposite, had a difficult time with him, and turned to Roger with obvious relief. She talked to him in a desultory fashion, but Frankie noticed that her eyes were never long absent from her husband's face.
Dr Nicholson was talking about life in the country.
'Do you know what a culture is. Lady Frances?' 'Do you mean book learning?' asked Frankie, rather puzzled.
'No, no. I was referring to germs. They develop, you know, in specially prepared serum. The country. Lady Frances, is a little like that. There is time and space and infinite leisure suitable conditions, you see, for development.' 'Do you mean bad things?' asked Frankie puzzled.
'That depends. Lady Frances, on the kind of germ cultivated.' Idiotic conversation, thought Frankie, and why should it make me feel creepy, but it does!
She said flippantly: 'I expect I'm developing all sorts of dark qualities.' He looked at her and said calmly: 'Oh, no, I don't think so. Lady Frances. I think you would always be on the side of law and order.' Was there a faint emphasis on the word law?
Suddenly, across the table, Mrs Nicholson said: 'My husband prides himself on summing up character.' Dr Nicholson nodded his head gently.
'Quite right, Moira. Little things interest me.' He turned to Frankie again. 'I had heard of your accident, you know. One thing about it intrigued me very much.' 'Yes?' said Frankie, her heart beating suddenly.
'The doctor who was passing - the one who brought you in here.' Yes?' 'He must have had a curious character - to turn his car before going to the rescue.' 'I don't understand.' 'Of course not. You were unconscious. But young Reeves, the message boy, came from Staverley on his bicycle and no car passed him, yet he comes round the corner, finds the smash, and the doctor's car pointing the same way he was going towards London. You see the point? The doctor did not come from the direction of Staveley so he must have come the other way, down the hill. But in that case his car should have been pointing towards Staverley. But it wasn't. Therefore he must have turned it.' 'Unless he had come from Staverley some time before,' said Frankie.
'Then his car would have been standing there as you came down the hill. Was it?' The pale-blue eyes were looking at her very intently through the thick glasses.
'I don't remember,' said Frankie. 'I don't think so.' 'You sound like a detective, Jasper,' said Mrs Nicholson.
'And all about nothing at all.' 'Little things interest me,' said Nicholson.
He turned to his hostess, and Frankie drew a breath of relief.
Why had he catechized her like that? How had he found out all about the accident? 'Little things interest me,' he had said.
Was that all there was to it?
Frankie remembered the dark-blue Talbot saloon, and the fact that Carstairs had been a Canadian. It seemed to her that Dr Nicholson was a sinister man.
She kept out of his way after dinner, attaching herself to the gentle, fragile Mrs Nicholson. She noticed that all the time Mrs Nicholson's eyes still watched her husband. Was it love, Frankie wondered, or fear?
Nicholson devoted himself to Sylvia and at half-past ten he caught his wife's eye and they rose to go.
'Well,' said Roger after they had gone, 'what do you think of our Dr Nicholson? A very forceful personality, hasn't he?' I'm like Sylvia,' said Frankie. 'I don't think I like him very much. I like her better.' 'Good-looking, but rather a little idiot,' said Roger. 'She either worships him or is scared to death of him -I don't know which.' 'That's just what I wondered,' agreed
The doctor's gaze went to Sylvia. Something like a very faint smile came to his lips but passed almost immediately.
'I should keep her with you as long as possible,' he said gravely.
Frankie was sitting between her host and Dr Nicholson.
Henry Bassington-ffrench was decidedly moody tonight. His hands twitched, he ate next to nothing and he took no part in the conversation.
Mrs Nicholson, opposite, had a difficult time with him, and turned to Roger with obvious relief. She talked to him in a desultory fashion, but Frankie noticed that her eyes were never long absent from her husband's face.
Dr Nicholson was talking about life in the country.
'Do you know what a culture is. Lady Frances?' 'Do you mean book learning?' asked Frankie, rather puzzled.
'No, no. I was referring to germs. They develop, you know, in specially prepared serum. The country. Lady Frances, is a little like that. There is time and space and infinite leisure suitable conditions, you see, for development.' 'Do you mean bad things?' asked Frankie puzzled.
'That depends. Lady Frances, on the kind of germ cultivated.' Idiotic conversation, thought Frankie, and why should it make me feel creepy, but it does!
She said flippantly: 'I expect I'm developing all sorts of dark qualities.' He looked at her and said calmly: 'Oh, no, I don't think so. Lady Frances. I think you would always be on the side of law and order.' Was there a faint emphasis on the word law?
Suddenly, across the table, Mrs Nicholson said: 'My husband prides himself on summing up character.' Dr Nicholson nodded his head gently.
'Quite right, Moira. Little things interest me.' He turned to Frankie again. 'I had heard of your accident, you know. One thing about it intrigued me very much.' 'Yes?' said Frankie, her heart beating suddenly.
'The doctor who was passing - the one who brought you in here.' Yes?' 'He must have had a curious character - to turn his car before going to the rescue.' 'I don't understand.' 'Of course not. You were unconscious. But young Reeves, the message boy, came from Staverley on his bicycle and no car passed him, yet he comes round the corner, finds the smash, and the doctor's car pointing the same way he was going towards London. You see the point? The doctor did not come from the direction of Staveley so he must have come the other way, down the hill. But in that case his car should have been pointing towards Staverley. But it wasn't. Therefore he must have turned it.' 'Unless he had come from Staverley some time before,' said Frankie.
'Then his car would have been standing there as you came down the hill. Was it?' The pale-blue eyes were looking at her very intently through the thick glasses.
'I don't remember,' said Frankie. 'I don't think so.' 'You sound like a detective, Jasper,' said Mrs Nicholson.
'And all about nothing at all.' 'Little things interest me,' said Nicholson.
He turned to his hostess, and Frankie drew a breath of relief.
Why had he catechized her like that? How had he found out all about the accident? 'Little things interest me,' he had said.
Was that all there was to it?
Frankie remembered the dark-blue Talbot saloon, and the fact that Carstairs had been a Canadian. It seemed to her that Dr Nicholson was a sinister man.
She kept out of his way after dinner, attaching herself to the gentle, fragile Mrs Nicholson. She noticed that all the time Mrs Nicholson's eyes still watched her husband. Was it love, Frankie wondered, or fear?
Nicholson devoted himself to Sylvia and at half-past ten he caught his wife's eye and they rose to go.
'Well,' said Roger after they had gone, 'what do you think of our Dr Nicholson? A very forceful personality, hasn't he?' I'm like Sylvia,' said Frankie. 'I don't think I like him very much. I like her better.' 'Good-looking, but rather a little idiot,' said Roger. 'She either worships him or is scared to death of him -I don't know which.' 'That's just what I wondered,' agreed
Similar Books
