recognize their voices if you heard them again.”
“I expect I could. The voices mightn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, but the circumstances under which I heard them certainly were.”
Mr. X wanted to belabor the issue, but Madoc wasn’t standing for that. “Jenny, is your head still aching? Are you sure you’re up to any more talking?”
“I expect I could stand it if I had anything more to tell, but I’m afraid I’m pumped dry. Why don’t you take Mr. X and Commissioner Lawlord down and give them their lunch? If one of you happens to think of something worth waking me up for, I’m afraid that’s what you’ll have to do. This stuff I’ve been taking for the pain is making me terribly drowsy.”
She held out her hand, drooping limply from the wrist as she’d seen Lady Rhys do in moments of extreme fedupness. Mr. X came all over gallant.
“Wouldn’t think of disturbing you again,” he assured her, patting the hand lightly as he held it. “You get your rest, Mrs. Rhys. You’ve earned it. Most grateful for your help.”
“Indeed we are,” said the deputy commissioner. “Rhys, you’d better stay here till we send Officer Nurney back upstairs. Not that anything’s likely to happen, but still—”
“Exactly, sir,” said Madoc. “You’ll find your way.”
Left alone with Janet, Madoc was all for improving the moment, but she put her hand over his lips and pushed him gently away. “Madoc, I have to tell you something. One of those men came from Bigears.”
“From where?”
“Bigears. It’s kind of a widening in the road out back of Pitcherville. They tried calling it Little Pitcher, but since little pitchers have big ears—”
“Yes, darling. How do you know?”
“They’ve got a funny way of pronouncing some of their final letters out there, very emphatically with a little sigh at the end.”
She demonstrated on the “end.” It wasn’t quite like “endde,” but somewhat in that general direction. “Every one of them does it over there, and I’ve never heard it quite the same anywhere else. It’s just a tiny thing most people would never notice, but you can’t miss it once you do.”
“Darling, that’s marvelous. Too bad it didn’t happen to strike you while Mr. X was grilling you. You’d have made his day.”
“Oh, it struck me, all right.”
Madoc stared at his wife. Then he shook his head. “Jenny love, have you been being clever?”
“I hope so. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, you know. They never do, and they get mad if you point it out to them. I expect his mother was a McLumber and his father was a Grouse, or vice versa. There are just those two families, and they keep marrying into each other. The ones that stay, anyway. Most of them get out as fast as they can. Here’s Nita coming. Go get your lunch. Oh, and make sure you explain that I’ve just been having a nervous attack from being reminded, and want to go and stay with my folks.”
“Being careful not to mention who they are or where they live, right? Wouldn’t the Grouses and the McLumbers know the Wadmans?”
“Mr. X is a little too young to have been at school with my father, and too old for Bert’s crowd, but I can’t imagine he’s never heard of us. Now scat. Hello, Nita. Did you eat?”
Madoc scatted, to take his place at the dining room table, which Muriel had set with the best silver and some placemats Annabelle had embroidered. She was impressed by doctors, and thought it nice of this pair to have flown in from Halifax or Saint John or Montreal or maybe even Boston.
She’d know they didn’t come from Fredericton, since there was precious little about Fredericton Muriel didn’t know. Anything pertaining to the military, would be a different story, and just as well. Mr. X, or Major Grouse or Colonel McLumber as the case might be, was not precisely a master of disguise. If he were, he’d watch his final consonants. Now that he knew what to listen for, Madoc had
“I expect I could. The voices mightn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, but the circumstances under which I heard them certainly were.”
Mr. X wanted to belabor the issue, but Madoc wasn’t standing for that. “Jenny, is your head still aching? Are you sure you’re up to any more talking?”
“I expect I could stand it if I had anything more to tell, but I’m afraid I’m pumped dry. Why don’t you take Mr. X and Commissioner Lawlord down and give them their lunch? If one of you happens to think of something worth waking me up for, I’m afraid that’s what you’ll have to do. This stuff I’ve been taking for the pain is making me terribly drowsy.”
She held out her hand, drooping limply from the wrist as she’d seen Lady Rhys do in moments of extreme fedupness. Mr. X came all over gallant.
“Wouldn’t think of disturbing you again,” he assured her, patting the hand lightly as he held it. “You get your rest, Mrs. Rhys. You’ve earned it. Most grateful for your help.”
“Indeed we are,” said the deputy commissioner. “Rhys, you’d better stay here till we send Officer Nurney back upstairs. Not that anything’s likely to happen, but still—”
“Exactly, sir,” said Madoc. “You’ll find your way.”
Left alone with Janet, Madoc was all for improving the moment, but she put her hand over his lips and pushed him gently away. “Madoc, I have to tell you something. One of those men came from Bigears.”
“From where?”
“Bigears. It’s kind of a widening in the road out back of Pitcherville. They tried calling it Little Pitcher, but since little pitchers have big ears—”
“Yes, darling. How do you know?”
“They’ve got a funny way of pronouncing some of their final letters out there, very emphatically with a little sigh at the end.”
She demonstrated on the “end.” It wasn’t quite like “endde,” but somewhat in that general direction. “Every one of them does it over there, and I’ve never heard it quite the same anywhere else. It’s just a tiny thing most people would never notice, but you can’t miss it once you do.”
“Darling, that’s marvelous. Too bad it didn’t happen to strike you while Mr. X was grilling you. You’d have made his day.”
“Oh, it struck me, all right.”
Madoc stared at his wife. Then he shook his head. “Jenny love, have you been being clever?”
“I hope so. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, you know. They never do, and they get mad if you point it out to them. I expect his mother was a McLumber and his father was a Grouse, or vice versa. There are just those two families, and they keep marrying into each other. The ones that stay, anyway. Most of them get out as fast as they can. Here’s Nita coming. Go get your lunch. Oh, and make sure you explain that I’ve just been having a nervous attack from being reminded, and want to go and stay with my folks.”
“Being careful not to mention who they are or where they live, right? Wouldn’t the Grouses and the McLumbers know the Wadmans?”
“Mr. X is a little too young to have been at school with my father, and too old for Bert’s crowd, but I can’t imagine he’s never heard of us. Now scat. Hello, Nita. Did you eat?”
Madoc scatted, to take his place at the dining room table, which Muriel had set with the best silver and some placemats Annabelle had embroidered. She was impressed by doctors, and thought it nice of this pair to have flown in from Halifax or Saint John or Montreal or maybe even Boston.
She’d know they didn’t come from Fredericton, since there was precious little about Fredericton Muriel didn’t know. Anything pertaining to the military, would be a different story, and just as well. Mr. X, or Major Grouse or Colonel McLumber as the case might be, was not precisely a master of disguise. If he were, he’d watch his final consonants. Now that he knew what to listen for, Madoc had
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