Hole and Corner by Patricia Wentworth Page A

Anthony Leigh and Shirley Dale had taken their way, but Ettie Miller watched them out of sight with a furious gleam in those fine dark eyes of hers. Seen like that, she had a heavy brooding face, and a mouth that fell easily into angry lines. When Alfred Phillips spoke her name with impatience she turned the anger on him.
    â€œWell, you’re a nice one, letting her go like that!”
    â€œCome, come,” he said—“it all went off very well. And you mustn’t look that way—you’ll be having people noticing you.”
    â€œAnd why shouldn’t people notice me? Haven’t I just had my bag stolen, or as near as makes no difference? I should have thought the more people noticed me, the better. And they wouldn’t expect me to be looking as pleased as Punch either—would they? I should have thought the more fuss there was, the better it would have suited your book. I tell you, Al, I don’t understand you—I don’t know what you’re getting at. Why didn’t you go on and run her in? You’ll never get a better chance. There she was, red-handed as you may say, and instead of calling in the police all you’ve got to say is, ‘That’s enough, Ettie.’ And there’s me taking my bag back, and meek as a mouse—and I’m sure I don’t know why I did it—and Miss Shirley Dale going off without so much as a cross word from anyone, let alone a policeman’s had on her shoulder, which is what I thought you meant or I wouldn’t have taken the risks I did and get no thanks for them either!”
    There was an empty table on either side of them now. The hum of the room and the sound of the gypsy music which the orchestra was playing enclosed them. They could talk as intimately and privately as if there had been walls about them and a locked door to shut them in.
    Alfred Phillips let her talk. Ettie always had a lot to say, and it was no good trying to stop her. When she had got to the end of it she would listen to him, and not before. She grumbled until the coffee came. Then, as she helped herself to sugar, she rolled her eyes at him and said,
    â€œLost your tongue, Al?”
    â€œUsing my eyes instead. That dress suits you, Ettie.”
    â€œThink so?”
    He put a little warmth into his cold look.
    â€œRed’s your colour.”
    â€œOh well, I don’t know. I got it a bargain.”
    He looked at her approvingly.
    â€œYou’re clever. But you got that all wrong just now, you know. You listen a minute and I’ll put you wise. That little bit of a game with Shirley Dale—there wasn’t anything serious about that.”
    She stared at him, angry and surprised.
    â€œThere wasn’t?”
    â€œOf course there wasn’t, any more than there was yesterday when she got on a bus with another lady’s bag on her arm.”
    â€œWhat did you let me do it for then?” said Ettie Miller. A heavy flush came into her face. “If I thought you were making a fool of me, Al Phillips—”
    Mr Phillips moved impatiently.
    â€œFool nothing! This is business. Now you listen to me, Ettie! There isn’t any sort of business in the world that doesn’t need publicity. I’m not ready for the real job yet. Advertisement—that’s what comes first—advertisement, publicity. Then when everything’s set, put your business across and it’ll go big.”
    Ettie looked stubborn.
    â€œThat’s just a way of talking. But what I say is, you’ll never get a better chance than you’ve had to-night, and if you go throwing chances away, you’ve only got yourself to thank if you don’t get them again.”
    Al Phillips smiled.
    â€œI can make all the chances I want. Now you freeze right on to this—to-night was only publicity. You’ve got brains all right, if you’ll use them. Well then, how was it going to look if you ran her in—when the whole