Here Comes a Chopper by Gladys Mitchell

would have been colder but for the comfort of Roger’s breast and arm. The fire, although low, was not out. ‘Oh, there’s some hot milk,’ she added. ‘Would you like it?’
    ‘No, really, thanks.’
    ‘Oh, well, there’s some whisky in the sideboard. Help yourself. I won’t be very long.’
    She took off her coat in the hall and went upstairs. Bob was reading in bed. He put down his book when she came in, and regarded her sternly.
    ‘Where on earth have you been?’ he demanded. ‘Jerry’s been here, and he kicked up no end of a stink when he heard you were out and I had to tell him I didn’t know where.’
    ‘How’s the ankle?’ asked Dorothy tactfully, seating herself on the bed.
    ‘None the better for having you sit on it,’ retorted her brother, who seemed to be greatly moved. ‘Look here, where the devil
have
you been? Do you know what time it is, and what time you left the house this morning?’
    ‘Oh, don’t be a heavy father,’ retorted Dorothy. ‘If you want to know, I’ve been having a thrilling time, a glorious walk, a marvellous dinner, and quite a lot of adventures.’
    ‘Who with?’
    Dorothy checked the names on her fingers. With her long, thick hair, grey eyes, broad brow and confident chin she looked altogether so young that her brother’s heart was softened. He loved his young sister, and was secretly proud of her beauty. Her lissome body was in contrast to his own strong, sturdy frame, thick shoulders, and long, strong arms, and people who did not know the family were usually very much surprised to learn that they were related. Bob had protected and fought for Dorothy from the time when they both veryyoung. He had experienced secret, deep, substantial pleasure when she came to his school on sports days, although he had regarded her then, and he regarded her still, as a child. He spoilt and bullied her, kept her out of trouble with their parents, acted as her chaperon, banker, swimming coach and watch-dog, and, generally speaking, obtained much satisfaction out of managing her and being managed by her, teasing her, taking care of her, and showing her off to his friends.
    ‘Heavy father be damned!’ he said, before she could begin her list of names. ‘Although you probably ought to be tanned. I’ll subscribe to that, if that’s being a heavy father.’
    ‘There were Lady Catherine, Captain Ranmore, John Hackhurst (the poet, you know), Mr Bookham, Mr Clandon,’ began Dorothy hastily, ‘and—and—Miss Clandon, Mrs Dunley (the archaeologist), Mrs Denbies (the violinist), George, Bugle——’
    ‘What
have
you been doing?’ asked Bob. He scowled at her dangerously. ‘Don’t you dare to try pulling my leg!’
    ‘I’ve been walking, I tell you, and having a birthday dinner with George and Lady Catherine and——’
    ‘Cut it out! Did you meet Hoskyn?’
    ‘Yes, of course I did. He was quite easy to recognize from your description, darling, and——’
    ‘Did you explain about my confounded ankle?’
    ‘Yes. How is it, by the way? You didn’t tell me.’
    ‘Rotten. What did Hoskyn do when he heard?Went off in a huff, I suppose. I knew he would. He can’t bear to have things upset when he’s got them planned. Did he say where he was going?’
    ‘He came with me; or, rather, I suppose I went with him. We got lost, and then we came to this house and they made us have dinner, because it was George’s birthday, and then the chauffeur drove us to the station, and we began coming home. But they made us go back because they couldn’t get up from table. Then Claudia Denbies played to us all, and we came home in Mrs Bradley’s car. Bob, it’s all been most peculiar and exciting. You might take an interest, you pig!’
    ‘Where’s Hoskyn?’
    ‘In the dining-room, downstairs. I told him to help himself to whisky.’
    ‘What!’
    ‘Oh, do you mind? I thought there was plenty in the decanter. I’d better go down and stop him. I told him I’d only be a minute. Can