They Found Him Dead Read Free Page B

Allison somewhat dryly, "that it doesn't occur to you that you might send the bracelet back?"
    "No, because I have to have pretty things. That's the Russian in me. C'est plus fort que moi. To do him justice Clement knows that. He doesn't grudge it me a bit, only it worries him not being able to make both ends meet. Now he says we shall have to move into a smaller house and do with only two maids. It's no use pretending to myself that I don't mind. I know I shouldn't be able to bear it. I feel stifled enough already."
    "When are you moving out of Red Lodge?" inquired Miss Allison, with the forlorn hope of leading the conversation into less introspective channels.
    "On quarter day, I suppose. I believe the people who've bought it would like to move in sooner, but I don't really know. We don't discuss it."
    This magnificent unconcern made Miss Allison blink. She said practically: "But oughtn't you to be looking for another house? It'll be rather awkward if you don't, surely?"
    Rosemary shrugged. "What's the use?" she said.
    Miss Allison, feeling herself to be unable to cope with the problem, said apologetically that she thought she ought to go back to the drawing room.
    "I often think," remarked Rosemary, preparing to follow her, "that you placid people must find life very easy. I wish I did."
    Not thinking this observation worthy of being replied to, Miss Allison merely smiled and stood aside for her to pass into the drawing room.
    Their reappearance coincided with the arrival of the gentlemen from the dining room. As the door opened old Mrs. Kane abandoned even the smallest show of interest in the diet of Betty Pemble's children and looked towards it. Her deeply lined countenance, with its close mouth and pale, rather starting eyes, had in repose a forbidding quality, but as her glance fell on Jim Kane her whole face seemed to soften, and her mouth to relax into one of its rare smiles. She said nothing, but when he came across the room towards her she looked pleased and made a little gesture towards a chair beside hers.
    He paused by a table to stub out his cigarette before coming to her, and then drew up the indicated chair and sat down.
    "Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" inquired Emily.
    He smiled. "That sounds as though I've done something I shouldn't. Have I?"
    She gave a grim chuckle. "I'll be bound you have. When are you coming to stay?"
    "Next week. May I?"
    She nodded. "They don't give you long enough holidays at that Treasury," she said. "Where's your mother gone gallivanting off to now?"
    "Belgian Congo," replied Jim. "It's no use asking me precisely where in the Congo, because no one can make out the address on her last letter. It looks like Mwarro Gwarro, but we can't help feeling that that's improbable."
    "Pack of nonsense!" said Emily, but without rancour. "At her age too. Leaving the boy—what's his name—with us, are you?"
    "That was the general idea," Jim admitted. "Not mine, but Adrian's. Do you mind? Adrian says Cousin Silas was kind enough to invite him."
    "I dare say. He won't bother me," said Emily. "I like young people about the place. Miss Allison can look after him." A gleam stole into her eye; she added sardonically: "You'd better talk it over with her." She looked towards her companion and nodded imperiously. Miss Allison came to her at once. "My great-nephew wants to talk to you about his stepbrother," she announced.
    Jim Kane had risen at Miss Allison's approach but shook his head at her glance of mild surprise. "No, I don't," he protested. "I mean, not about Timothy."
    "Well, you don't want to talk to an old woman when you might be talking to a pretty young one, I hope," said Emily. "Miss Allison, show my great-nephew the orange tree in the conservatory."
    She dismissed them with a nod. Jim Kane said: "I wish you would. I haven't been able to exchange two words with you so far."
    "Go along," said Emily, clinching the matter.
    So Miss Allison entered the conservatory for the purpose