Allison that he was now quite sure that Silas had been bumped off.
Miss Allison took instant exception to this vulgar and unfeeling expression and said that he was talking nonsense.
He looked her over with a sapient eye. "You can say it's nonsense if you like, but, all the same, I bet you think it was murder."
"I do not!" said Patricia emphatically. "I think it's all absolutely horrible, and that you're making it worse by trying to turn it into a cheap thriller." She walked away from him, up the stairs to Mrs. Kane's rooms, conscious of a faint wish that Mr. James Kane was present to quell his stepbrother.
She was a young woman not easily shaken out of her calm, but the events of this fateful day were, she suspected, a trifle on her nerves. Policemen and ambulances, official questions, servants whispering together, and a general atmosphere of surmise and suspicion were not conducive to a calm frame of mind. Nor was relief to be found in Mrs. Kane's presence.
Emily was in her own sitting room, motionless in a straight-backed armchair, staring before her with blank, cold eyes, her shrunken mouth compressed, as though guarding secrets. Miss Allison knew herself to be overwrought when an odd fancy seized her that there was something ruthless about her employer.
Emily brought her gaze slowly to bear upon Miss Allison's face. "Well?" she said. "So they've taken him away?"
"Yes," replied Patricia.
"Nice scandal!" Emily said. "Inquests! Post-mortems! My husband would turn in his grave!"
"It's very unpleasant," agreed Patricia. "But it's only a matter of form."
Emily looked at her queerly. "It is, is it?"
Coming immediately after Timothy's sinister pronouncements, this grim utterance made Patricia feel uncomfortable. She met Emily's look and said after a moment: "What do you mean, Mrs. Kane? What are you thinking?"
"I?" said Emily sharply. "I don't think anything. All I know is that my son is dead. What I think won't bring him to life again. Yes, what is it?"
Ogle, in the doorway, brought the news of Mr. And Mrs. Clement Kane's arrival. Emily gave a short laugh and said: "Show them up." To Patricia she added brusquely: "You needn't go. In fact, you're to stay."
In a few minutes Ogle ushered the Clement Kanes into the room. Rosemary was wearing a blue linen frock, but Clement had found time to procure a black armband. Emily observed this immediately and said: "I'd like to know what you've got to mourn about!"
This was not a very promising start to the interview.
Clement replied that to wear an armband was usual, a mark of respect. He tried to make a speech of condolence but was interrupted before he had uttered half-a-dozen words. "Never mind that!" Emily said. "I don't want your sympathy. I don't want anyone's sympathy, if it comes to that."
"I think I should feel like that too," remarked Rosemary critically.
"You?" said Emily. "You'd spend a twelvemonth telling everyone what your emotions were. I know you!"
Rosemary took this in very good part, merely saying with a certain amount of interest, "I wonder if I should? Do you think I analyse myself too much? With my type that's always a danger, of course."
Miss Allison felt that Rosemary came off the best from this encounter. Emily could only glare at her, folding her lips more tightly than ever.
Clement, always ill at ease in his great-aunt's presence, began to speak of future plans. Miss Allison guessed, when he said that he knew Emily would not wish to be alone in the house, that Rosemary had made up her mind to move into Cliff House immediately.
She dreaded an explosion from Emily, but Emily heard Clement out in unencouraging silence. Watching her, Miss Allison felt that behind the mask of age Emily's brain was working hard. There was something rather terrible about this stout, alert old lady who sat so still and looked so bleakly out of eyes that were arctic-blue and expressionless.
"Of course," Clement was saying, "we only wish to do what will be most
Miss Allison took instant exception to this vulgar and unfeeling expression and said that he was talking nonsense.
He looked her over with a sapient eye. "You can say it's nonsense if you like, but, all the same, I bet you think it was murder."
"I do not!" said Patricia emphatically. "I think it's all absolutely horrible, and that you're making it worse by trying to turn it into a cheap thriller." She walked away from him, up the stairs to Mrs. Kane's rooms, conscious of a faint wish that Mr. James Kane was present to quell his stepbrother.
She was a young woman not easily shaken out of her calm, but the events of this fateful day were, she suspected, a trifle on her nerves. Policemen and ambulances, official questions, servants whispering together, and a general atmosphere of surmise and suspicion were not conducive to a calm frame of mind. Nor was relief to be found in Mrs. Kane's presence.
Emily was in her own sitting room, motionless in a straight-backed armchair, staring before her with blank, cold eyes, her shrunken mouth compressed, as though guarding secrets. Miss Allison knew herself to be overwrought when an odd fancy seized her that there was something ruthless about her employer.
Emily brought her gaze slowly to bear upon Miss Allison's face. "Well?" she said. "So they've taken him away?"
"Yes," replied Patricia.
"Nice scandal!" Emily said. "Inquests! Post-mortems! My husband would turn in his grave!"
"It's very unpleasant," agreed Patricia. "But it's only a matter of form."
Emily looked at her queerly. "It is, is it?"
Coming immediately after Timothy's sinister pronouncements, this grim utterance made Patricia feel uncomfortable. She met Emily's look and said after a moment: "What do you mean, Mrs. Kane? What are you thinking?"
"I?" said Emily sharply. "I don't think anything. All I know is that my son is dead. What I think won't bring him to life again. Yes, what is it?"
Ogle, in the doorway, brought the news of Mr. And Mrs. Clement Kane's arrival. Emily gave a short laugh and said: "Show them up." To Patricia she added brusquely: "You needn't go. In fact, you're to stay."
In a few minutes Ogle ushered the Clement Kanes into the room. Rosemary was wearing a blue linen frock, but Clement had found time to procure a black armband. Emily observed this immediately and said: "I'd like to know what you've got to mourn about!"
This was not a very promising start to the interview.
Clement replied that to wear an armband was usual, a mark of respect. He tried to make a speech of condolence but was interrupted before he had uttered half-a-dozen words. "Never mind that!" Emily said. "I don't want your sympathy. I don't want anyone's sympathy, if it comes to that."
"I think I should feel like that too," remarked Rosemary critically.
"You?" said Emily. "You'd spend a twelvemonth telling everyone what your emotions were. I know you!"
Rosemary took this in very good part, merely saying with a certain amount of interest, "I wonder if I should? Do you think I analyse myself too much? With my type that's always a danger, of course."
Miss Allison felt that Rosemary came off the best from this encounter. Emily could only glare at her, folding her lips more tightly than ever.
Clement, always ill at ease in his great-aunt's presence, began to speak of future plans. Miss Allison guessed, when he said that he knew Emily would not wish to be alone in the house, that Rosemary had made up her mind to move into Cliff House immediately.
She dreaded an explosion from Emily, but Emily heard Clement out in unencouraging silence. Watching her, Miss Allison felt that behind the mask of age Emily's brain was working hard. There was something rather terrible about this stout, alert old lady who sat so still and looked so bleakly out of eyes that were arctic-blue and expressionless.
"Of course," Clement was saying, "we only wish to do what will be most
Similar Books
