It being now possible to converse, he looked at her very directly and said,
“What’s the matter?”
He was a good deal concerned when she turned very pale and said with a shake in her voice,
“I nearly got arrested for shoplifting.”
Concern became something more as she poured it all out.
“If it hadn’t been for Miss Silver, they would have arrested me. It’s given me the most frightful sort of giddy feeling—like thinking you’re on quite an ordinary path, and all of a sudden your foot goes down and there isn’t anything there. I expect you’ve done it in dreams—I have, often. But it’s never happened when I was awake—not till this morning.”
When the waiter had come and gone he made her tell it all over again.
“Had you ever seen any of those people before?”
“No. Miss Silver wanted to know about that. We went and had coffee together after they had apologized. She’s a marvel. She knows everyone at Scotland Yard, so of course they had to listen to her. She simply flattened that awful manager.”
The memory cheered her a good deal. “But, Justin, she said was there anyone who would like to get me into trouble, or get me out of the way, and of course I said no. Because it couldn’t—it simply couldn’t have anything to do with the Wicked Uncle—could it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there was a photograph of him all crumpled up in Marty’s toy-cupboard.”
“Dorinda!”
She nodded.
“Well, there was. It was the twin of the one Aunt Mary had— Charles Rowbecker & Son, Norwood. And I put it on Mrs. Oakley’s writing-table, and I didn’t say anything to her, and she didn’t say anything to me. Justin—it couldn’t be that!”
He looked handsome and remote. A dreadful feeling that perhaps she was boring him came over her. She said in a hurry,
“We needn’t go on talking about it.”
Still handsome but not so remote, he frowned and told her not to be silly.
“But, Justin, you looked bored.”
“That’s just my unfortunate face. The brain was getting to work. Look here, Dorinda—why did you go to that shop at all?”
“I had some things to do for Mrs. Oakley.”
“My good child, you’re not going to tell me that Martin Oakley’s wife shops at the De Luxe Stores! Modes for the Million, and a Brighter and Better Bourgeoisie!”
Dorinda giggled.
“Not for herself, she doesn’t. But someone told her they’d got luminous paint, so she told me to go there and see. Because Marty’s got his old nurse back and she isn’t a bit pleased because he’s been allowed to chip all the stuff off the night-nursery clock and she can’t see what time it is when she wakes up in the dark. So I was to go there and see if I could get some.”
“Who knew that you were going there?”
“Well, Mrs. Oakley—and Nurse—and Doris, who is the girl who does the nurseries—and—well, I should think practically everyone else in the house, because Marty kept telling everyone I was going to buy him some shiny paint because he had been a very naughty boy and had scraped it off the clock. And every time he said it Nurse came in with how difficult it was to get, but she did hear they had some at the De Luxe Stores. But I don’t know who told her.”
Justin’s frown deepened.
“If that was a frame-up, it was arranged by someone who knew you were going to the damned shop. Are you sure you had never seen anyone in that crowd before?”
Dorinda shook her head.
“Oh, no, I hadn’t.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound as if it could have been a case of having to get rid of the stuff because the thief was under suspicion. She would never have risked speaking to the assistant if it had been like that. Look here, I don’t like it. I think you’d better clear out of this job. You can ring Mrs. Oakley up and say that an acute family crisis has arisen, and that you have been called to your Aunt Jemima’s death-bed.”
“Justin, I couldn’t. Even if she didn’t know—and she
“What’s the matter?”
He was a good deal concerned when she turned very pale and said with a shake in her voice,
“I nearly got arrested for shoplifting.”
Concern became something more as she poured it all out.
“If it hadn’t been for Miss Silver, they would have arrested me. It’s given me the most frightful sort of giddy feeling—like thinking you’re on quite an ordinary path, and all of a sudden your foot goes down and there isn’t anything there. I expect you’ve done it in dreams—I have, often. But it’s never happened when I was awake—not till this morning.”
When the waiter had come and gone he made her tell it all over again.
“Had you ever seen any of those people before?”
“No. Miss Silver wanted to know about that. We went and had coffee together after they had apologized. She’s a marvel. She knows everyone at Scotland Yard, so of course they had to listen to her. She simply flattened that awful manager.”
The memory cheered her a good deal. “But, Justin, she said was there anyone who would like to get me into trouble, or get me out of the way, and of course I said no. Because it couldn’t—it simply couldn’t have anything to do with the Wicked Uncle—could it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there was a photograph of him all crumpled up in Marty’s toy-cupboard.”
“Dorinda!”
She nodded.
“Well, there was. It was the twin of the one Aunt Mary had— Charles Rowbecker & Son, Norwood. And I put it on Mrs. Oakley’s writing-table, and I didn’t say anything to her, and she didn’t say anything to me. Justin—it couldn’t be that!”
He looked handsome and remote. A dreadful feeling that perhaps she was boring him came over her. She said in a hurry,
“We needn’t go on talking about it.”
Still handsome but not so remote, he frowned and told her not to be silly.
“But, Justin, you looked bored.”
“That’s just my unfortunate face. The brain was getting to work. Look here, Dorinda—why did you go to that shop at all?”
“I had some things to do for Mrs. Oakley.”
“My good child, you’re not going to tell me that Martin Oakley’s wife shops at the De Luxe Stores! Modes for the Million, and a Brighter and Better Bourgeoisie!”
Dorinda giggled.
“Not for herself, she doesn’t. But someone told her they’d got luminous paint, so she told me to go there and see. Because Marty’s got his old nurse back and she isn’t a bit pleased because he’s been allowed to chip all the stuff off the night-nursery clock and she can’t see what time it is when she wakes up in the dark. So I was to go there and see if I could get some.”
“Who knew that you were going there?”
“Well, Mrs. Oakley—and Nurse—and Doris, who is the girl who does the nurseries—and—well, I should think practically everyone else in the house, because Marty kept telling everyone I was going to buy him some shiny paint because he had been a very naughty boy and had scraped it off the clock. And every time he said it Nurse came in with how difficult it was to get, but she did hear they had some at the De Luxe Stores. But I don’t know who told her.”
Justin’s frown deepened.
“If that was a frame-up, it was arranged by someone who knew you were going to the damned shop. Are you sure you had never seen anyone in that crowd before?”
Dorinda shook her head.
“Oh, no, I hadn’t.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound as if it could have been a case of having to get rid of the stuff because the thief was under suspicion. She would never have risked speaking to the assistant if it had been like that. Look here, I don’t like it. I think you’d better clear out of this job. You can ring Mrs. Oakley up and say that an acute family crisis has arisen, and that you have been called to your Aunt Jemima’s death-bed.”
“Justin, I couldn’t. Even if she didn’t know—and she
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