A Pinch of Poison Read Free Page A

toward Max Fineberg’s cab, and trying to convince herself that she should stick to the rules and walk to the subway. There was, she told Anna, nothing more for—she picked up her watch from the bedside table—at least an hour. Anna said, “Yes, miss,” and started out. Lois made a sudden decision.
    â€œOh, Anna,” she said, “you might bring me a copy of the Encyclopædia. The H’s.”
    â€œThe Encyclopædia, miss?” Anna repeated. “The volume with the H’s in it?”
    â€œYes, Anna, please,” Lois said. “There’s something I want to look up.”
    Anna brought the volume and Lois Winston, resting it uncomfortably on her abdomen, read. Then she said, “Um-m-m!” and lay for a while looking at the ceiling. “That’s what I thought,” she said, after a bit. “I’ll have to talk to Mary Crane.” Then, quite unexpectedly to herself, she went to sleep.
    It was almost seven when Anna rapped restrainedly on the door. Lois awoke and said, “Come,” and tried to remember the wild turmoil of dreams which was slipping away. It was something about—But she could not remember what it was about. Anna said it was almost seven and Lois lay quietly for a moment looking at her. Then Lois was wide awake and off the bed and telling Anna she thought the blue print and then she was looking at herself in the dressing-table mirror. She looked rested, she thought, and a little flushed.
    â€œI hope you had a nice rest, miss,” Anna assured her. Anna was calm and unhurried and began to arrange Lois’s hair. Lois rubbed cream into her skin and rubbed it out again. She said it was a lovely rest. Somebody knocked at the door.
    â€œYes?” Lois said.
    â€œI want to talk to you a minute, Sis.” That was Buddy, with a demand in his voice.
    â€œI’m dressing,” Lois said. “And I’ve just time before Dave comes for me. You can talk to me tomorrow.”
    â€œIt won’t take me long to say what I want to say,” Buddy insisted. “And I want to say it tonight.” He spoke as if only what he wanted was important. Lois stirred impatiently under Anna’s fingers and made a face at Anna in the mirror. Anna looked dispassionately sympathetic.
    â€œNo,” Lois said. “Tomorrow will have to do, Buddy. And if it’s about—”
    â€œYou know what it’s about,” Buddy broke in. He had half opened the door. “I just want to say—get Anna out of here, will you?”
    Lois was on her feet, turning to face him.
    â€œI told you no,” she said. “I told you I was dressing. Get out of here, Randall. And stay out until I invite you in.” She looked at him and he stared back. “All right,” she said. “Get out.”
    She was stronger; she was always stronger when it was worth the trouble. She was always stronger when she called him Randall instead of “Buddy”; it made him feel, somehow, like a boy who has been reprimanded. It also made him sulky, and there was sullen anger in his gaze now as he stared at her a moment longer. Then he shrugged and closed the door behind him. Lois stood for a moment staring at the door and then she sat down at the mirror again. Anna’s proper face showed sympathy and agreement.
    â€œIt will be about Madge again, of course,” Lois said, only half to Anna. “If he’d only—only let it lie. Anyway until Mother comes back.”
    â€œMrs. Ashley is coming back tomorrow, miss.” Anna said. “For the day. For some shopping. She called Mary this afternoon, I think. I supposed Mary had told you.”
    â€œOh,” said Lois. “No—I only saw Mary a moment. I suppose she told my brother?”
    â€œI think she told Mr. Ashley, miss.” There was no comment in the tone. It hardly skirted a subject which was outside Anna’s accepted sphere of