Trouble on the Thames Read Free Page B

there’s anything over—”
    â€œIt’s no use arguing about it,” broke in Ruth calmly. “Two per cent is what we fixed, and two per cent is what I’m going to take. When the business really gets going we can make it a little more, if you like. At present it’s halves, Partner, so just shut up and think about what you’re going to have for dinner.”
    â€œBut it seems so unfair,” protested Sally. “If it wasn’t for you there wouldn’t be any profit. You sit here and do all the hard work—”
    â€œHard work my foot! Anyone can squat on their behind and just scribble down figures in a book.” Ruth patted the hand that was resting on her shoulder. “Don’t be so fatuously modest, my pet. Any success we’ve had has been due to the fact that you’re not only a genius at your job, but you’ve a way of handling people which simply makes me gasp. How you put up with some of these ghastly females I can’t imagine. If it were me I should lose my temper and tell them to go and boil their heads.”
    Sally laughed. “I’d like to see the water afterwards: it would be a funny colour in some cases.”
    â€œTalking of that, how about the Greig woman?” Ruth glanced at her watch. “Didn’t she make an appointment for eleven-thirty?”
    â€œShe did, but she’s sure to be half an hour late. If one’s absolutely dripping with money—”
    â€œSh! Here is the creature! At least, that looks like her car.”
    A glittering limousine had come to a halt outside, and a moment or so later its owner, an expensively dressed, middle-aged lady, drifted vaguely into the shop. She was heavily made up and her hair looked as though it had been dyed in orange juice.
    â€œGood morning, Mrs. Greig. How delightful to see you again!” With a dazzling smile Sally moved gracefully forward. “Until I got your note I thought you were still up in Scotland.”
    â€œWe came back last week.” The visitor sank languidly into a chair, and producing a slim platinum case, extracted a gold-tipped cigarette.
    â€œCan you find me a match, my dear? Thanks terribly.”
    â€œDid you have a good time?”
    â€œPositively loathsome.” Mrs. Greig gave a faint shudder. “No one in the place seemed to be able to talk about anything except killing birds. My husband, of course, was enraptured. He adores shedding blood.”
    â€œMost men are like that.” Sally nodded sympathetically. “It must have been very trying for you, though, with your artistic and sensitive temperament.”
    â€œAbsolutely devastating. If I had stayed there another week I should have passed out from sheer boredom.” The speaker shuddered again. “What I need is a spiritual tonic. I am thinking of redecorating the drawing-room.”
    â€œWhat an inspiration, and how typical of the true artist!” Sally clasped her hands admiringly.
    â€œI thought that we might work out something in collabor-ation. I was very pleased with the room which you did for Lady Jocelyn. It struck me as having soul and imagination.”
    â€œThat cheers me up tremendously. It’s so encouraging to be appreciated by anyone who has real taste and understanding.”
    Ruth, who was seated behind the visitor’s back, made a vulgar gesture with her fingers.
    â€œHave you an idea for any particular colour-scheme?” pursued Sally hastily. “I always feel that one should start from that and then build up stage by stage until one gets a complete and harmonious picture.”
    â€œYes, I know what I want.” Mrs. Greig closed her eyes. “A warm, slightly golden effect—something that suggests sunshine and happiness.”
    â€œBut how wonderful!” Sally paused as though overcome by the brilliance of the conception. “You know, if you had left it entirely to me, that’s just what I should have