Текст книги "Concluding"

Автор книги: Henry Green

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"Yes, ma'am."

"Tell me, where is the child now?" Edge enquired.

"Oh, Matron's on guard, ma'am. She's locked safely in."

"That is one thing to be thankful for, then," Edge announced. "But who found her, Marchbanks, or did she just come on her own out of thin air?"

"Elizabeth Rock and Mr Birt I believe, ma'am."

Miss Edge glanced sideways at Baker. In that lady's sightless condition there was no way of telling how much she understood.

"Did you hear that, dear?" Miss Edge asked. "It may be significant."

"Can't say I see a great deal to it," Baker muttered, after a pause. Thus it came about that the doctor was not called. Miss March-banks was under the impression Miss Edge would do this, and that lady had believed she had only to give an order to be obeyed.

"And what about the Inspector of Police?" Edge went on.

"Of course I rang him at once, ma'am, but he seemed rather occupied. However he said he would be up in no time."

"Hasn't he made an appearance, then?"

"Not yet, ma'am."

"Well, perhaps that may turn out a good thing, although it strikes one as feckless of him, does it not?" Miss Edge turned to Baker. But her colleague had still not opened her eyes. Then she spoke.

"And Mary? She has a father and mother I'm certain," Miss Baker announced, getting to her feet to reach the file. To do so she had to look where she was going, and, when she stumbled, they realised she was in tears. Upon which Edge made a face at Marchbanks so much as to hint, pray take no notice.

"What did I tell you?" Baker asked. "Parents living apart and in Brazil," she read out from the card she held, openly wiping tears off her cheeks with the back of a hand.

There was a silence. After a moment Miss Edge arrived at the conclusion her friend's virtual collapse was best ignored.

"But, come to that, how was it?" she began again on Miss Marchbanks, who turned a horrified look round to her. "What induced them to act like little thieves? Is there a man in this, Marchbanks?"

"Why I'm sure there's nothing missing, ma'am. No-one's reported. ."

"Please," Edge interrupted, with a weary gesture. "I never said anything of the kind, did I? Who got at them, then, and planned it all? Have you found this out yet?"

"I was careful not to press too closely ma'am. . "

"And she fainted," Miss Edge again interrupted.

"She was very tired, I think," Ma Marchbanks said with dignity. A loud sob came from Baker.

"There is no need to lose our heads," Miss Edge rebuked her colleague, although she addressed the underling. "Rather it is a moment to keep what wits we have about us. As to being tired, the doctor will see to that, no doubt. The question I asked was quite simple. Is there a man in this, or not?"

Marchbanks had certainly begun to lose hers.

"Yes," she said, almost at random.

"I thought so," Edge said, satisfied almost to jubilation. "And has he any connection with our Mr Rock?"

"Careful dear," Baker implored, with a trembling voice.

"But we must know, you know we must," Edge said. "Well, has he?"

"I'm sure I can't tell. I don't imagine so," Miss Marchbanks told her, with obvious resentment.

"You can't tell, you do not imagine, what is this?" Edge echoed.

"That's how things are," Miss Marchbanks said, happily hating her Principal.

"But why? Surely you can see? Why, Marchbanks?"

"Because she fainted just when she was going to tell, ma'am."

"Where is the girl? I…" Edge was beginning, when Baker broke in.

"Thank you, Marchbanks, I'm sure you've done all that was possible, you can go now," she said, and Miss Marchbanks walked straight out. As she closed the door she heard Baker, pleadingly, start to reason with Miss Edge, "Now dear," she said, "now dear, in our Directives…"

"The OAFS," Miss Marchbanks spat aloud in the passage, to relieve her feelings, the first moment she was out of earshot."Oh, the oafs."

Moira came out of a ride into the small open space before Mr Rock's cottage. Its hideous mauve and yellow brick was swamped in shade, marked out by sunlight, for the beech trees were tall but not thick together hereabouts.

Sun lit up blue smoke, spiralling out of the chimney for two full yards in this stillness.

She could not see the old man but heard a chopping of wood within the trees, and moved towards the sound, knowing it must be him for he was the one to work round here.

"Hello," she said, confident she was the favourite, when she came upon Mr Rock in shirtsleeves, clumsily using his hatchet on a block.

He straightened up. The old face cracked into a real smile. She saw he was not wearing teeth, also that he could do with a shave.

"Well?" he asked. She came close, to let him take her in.

"Why don't you use the tree Mr Birt found Merode under?" she asked.

"Not dead enough," he said.

"But you'd have more wood. You are silly," she said, while he examined her youth. It made him think of a ripe plum, on a hot day, against green leaves on a wall.

"Mr Birt found her. There's a laugh," she began again. They stood watching each other comfortably.

"How d'you look so cool?" he asked.

"He would," she said about the finding. When this drew no comment she went on in a lazy way, "Because I'm not hot, not yet, silly. I don't wear all the clothes you do," she added, shifting the position of her hip.

He had a fallen branch to cut into faggots, and he set to work once more.

"Let me help," she said, though she made no move forward. When he did not answer, she repeated, "Let me." He's a hundred if he's a day, she said to herself.

"Just leave an old fellow get on with what he's about," he said.

"All that wood's for Daise, isn't it?" she asked. "Well, I'm not stopping anyone."

"Yes, for Daisy's swill," he answered. "To boil it. Too many won't trouble, which is the cause of so much of this filthy swine fever." She nibbled at one of the azaleas in her arms. She knew she made a picture, but he paid no attention. She waved away a bee.

"Have you seen your cat?" she enquired.

"No. She's all right I trust?" he said, not looking up.

"Oh, in her glory," the girl replied. "At the Institute, of course, with Ma Marchbanks. She'd better look out for herself, though. The Marchbanks mayn't know it, but Edge and Baker's back."

"Are they. .?" he asked, and drew himself up to his full height, but checked his tongue in time. "Why, what about my animal?"

"They don't like pussy cats, those two, do they?" she answered.

"Two faced, cats are," he said, watching her closely. She took a whole azalea right into her mouth. "Cupboard love," he said, and wiped his spectacles.

"Why shouldn't I, if I want. They taste good," she said, after she had got rid of the flower into a hand and dropped it behind her back.

"Not you," he said.

"Cats."

"What's cupboard love, exactly?" she asked, knowing full well, but to cover herself.

"Greed, that's all."

"You are queer, Mr Rock," she said.

There was a pause while he put his spectacles on once more. "Have they come upon the other girl yet?" the old man enquired, getting on with his task. "Or why have they returned?"

"Mary, oh I know where she is," Moira told him.

"Where's that?" Mr Rock quietly demanded.

"She's down under water in the lake of course," the girl said.

"Is she now?" this old man commented, but did not look up from what he was at. "Have you been to see?"

She gave a small, affected shriek. "Me? Who d'you think I am? Oh, I simply couldn't."

"Then how d'you come by your information?"

"That's easy," the girl said. "Winstanley asked permission for the staff to bathe as today's a holiday, and Ma Marchbanks said better not, because Mary was drowned in it."

"When did you learn?" he enquired, selecting another stick to chop.

"Why everyone's heard." A silence fell.

"Where's George Adams at work?" Mr Rock asked next.

"He's to fetch the pine trees she wants round the Hall for tonight. We're to put salt over to look like snow. Only Miss Edge won't be so keen. Why?"

"Because in that case I should have thought he would be better employed if he dragged the water," Mr Rock said. He was watching the girl now.

"Oh Mr Rock you are dreadful, really," she cried out. "The horrible things you think."

"Dear, dear," he said, and bent down again. There was a pause.

"What did you make of it when Mr Birt found Merode?" she once more asked, with a giggle. He made no reply.

"She told me all," she went on. "You see, they'd locked her into the bathrooms so she could have a good cry, you know what a tremendous cry baby she is, but there's a grating on the floor above, or there's two, one above and one underneath. Anyway Matron hasn't discovered yet, so I was able to get on to Merode."

"Moira," he said uneasily, "you'll grow up an old maid."

She laughed out loud. "Me?" she said. "I don't think," largely understating this. "Why, Mr Rock?"

"Because you will."

"No, why?"

"All this chitter chatter."

"But I'm only explaining what happened, aren't I? No she, that's Merode, confessed up she'd gone out at night to meet him. Lots of the girls do."

"Oh? Go out to meet Sebastian Birt?" His voice was sharp.

"Oh, why Mr Birt specially? But they do at night."

"But how do you know?" Mr Rock asked. The jealousy he felt over this man obscured his judgement, so that he was not sure what to believe.

"That's easy," the girl replied. "He said he was off to London last night, for the holiday, then stayed after all."

"Who told you? Was it Merode?"

"I said, didn't I? Marion's senior girl at orderly duty today, and Mrs Blain said so. Which reminds me. You mustn't keep me here to pass along the news the way you are. I'm due back in the kitchen. I might tell you it's hard work jollying Mrs Blain, with all she's got on."

"Why do you say Miss Baker and Miss Edge are back?"

"Because I saw them come up the drive. Is that good enough for once? But they didn't see me, no thank you."

"Well, well. They missed a sight then, didn't they, Moira?"

"Oh you are dreadful this morning. Now I'll ask you a question. Where's Dan?"

"Who?"

"I mean Ted."

"The goose? She's fed. It was a good thing I had plenty."

"Why, how's that?"

"Because she's down by the water, this minute, if I know much of Ted," Mr Rock said.

She gave another little shriek.

"Mr Rock that's foul," she cried.

"Grubbing about," he added.

"I shan't stay if you're like this. All you ever want is to give me creeps," she said.

"You'll stay," he countered.

"Why, how's that?" she repeated, making no move to depart.

"You told me you'd have to get back a long while since."

There was a pause while she pouted. But he did not bother to notice.

"Will you come to the dance tonight?" she asked, in a small voice.

"I might," he said.

"Because, if you did, I'd sit one out with you."

"That's a more sensible suggestion than saying you'd spare me a dance." He chopped harder at the branch.

"Because, if you did, I might even give you a kiss," she continued. The chopping stopped. But he did not look up.

"There's an absurd idea," he said loudly. "If you want to know I've completely forgotten about it."

"I mean what I promise," she insisted.

"All I intended to convey," he said, frightened and embarrassed, "was, thank God, I've reached an age when I've long since forgotten everything to do with all such nonsense. Now do you understand?"

"No," she answered.

"Then why not?"

"Because I bet you haven't really," she said. He went on with his work rather fast.

"Well, well," he tried to pass it off, uneasily.

"I don't know what else a girl can promise," she suggested. He let this go.

Then she began again. She dropped her voice to a whisper, so that he unwillingly stopped work to catch what was said through the disfiguring deafness.

"Now this is really secret," she informed him. "Have you heard about Mr Adams?"

"Look, Moira, I'm not here to chatter with students."

"Oh, if someone doesn't want to listen, I can't make them, can I?"

"All right," he said. "There's no need to be forward." She inferred from this last remark that she had his blessing.

"There's some of the juniors meet Mr Adams of a night time. If we could only find which, we'd put an end to that, double quick."

"Who's we?" he asked, surprised into going on with it.

"Why, the seniors."

"Miss Baker and Miss Edge don't know, then?"

"Those two old pussies," she protested. "They'll never learn what really happens here. But that's why it's so silly your saying what you just did. You and he are the same age, anyway there can't be more between you than there is between me and one of the juniors."

"You're out of your mind, child. I'm old enough to be the man's father. And in any case, I don't like this."

"I'm sorry," she said, with an extraordinary look of innocence.

"That's all right. I've forgotten all about it," he repeated severely. But he straightened his back, and took off the spectacles once more, to wipe them.

"Then you will come to the dance tonight," she announced.

"I might," he said. "Will Miss Edge and Miss Baker be in attendance?"

"Of course. They've come back already, like I told. Anyway they only go up for the day, Wednesdays. No, they had to come home in a rush because of Mary and Merode. And when we gave them all the start we could."

"What?" he protested, laughing at last. "If this is any more of your nonsense then I don't want it, that's all."

"Well you see," she said, "Mary was almost forever on orderly duty. Edge said she always was so neat. Marion's the senior today and when Mary didn't turn up, because I promise I never heard a word about Merode till later, Marion asked what she should tell the old grumps. And sure enough Edge spotted Mary wasn't there at once, so Marion told her like I said, that Mary had gone to Matron."

"I don't understand a word," he protested more cheerfully still, and went back to his work.

"Oh, you are dense," she cried. "D'you know while I stand here to pass the time of day with you my arms are simply dropping from all these branches for the dance?" She was indeed a lovely sight as she stood before him. But he laughed once more.

"Then you'd better rid yourself," he said.

"You are in a dreadful mood today. Goodbye for now," she said, and went off, happily pouting.

"Now dear our Directives," Baker said as Marchbanks left the room. "Be careful, do dear. You said yourself the child should not be cross-examined."

"But, Baker, she has not been crossexamined, has she?" Edge cried out, and pushed the saucer away with its empty cup. "If she has, this is the first I have heard."

"Her parents are not living, dear. If they hold an Enquiry they'll call it cross-examination."

"Oh, it does so aggravate one, Baker. Because she holds the answer to Mary's whereabouts."

"Wherever the poor child may be, with her parents away in Brazil, she can stay for a while yet," Miss Baker said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, rather in the same way that Mr Dakers had patted his mouth at breakfast.

"Why, what on earth do you mean?" Miss Edge protested. "You are surely not going to suggest. .?"

"I suggest nothing, dear," Baker insisted in a tired voice. "All I say is that Mary can't have got very far, unless of course she has a conveyance. We left instructions about the station and the coaches, and now you have a policeman to see you. No, we must remember the poor mite was sick."

"I know nothing of it," Edge objected. "Her name is not down on Matron's list."

"But don't you recollect, dear? It was you who asked what had happened to Mary at breakfast, and Marion told you she'd gone to Matron!'

"So she did," Miss Edge exclaimed. "That puts an entirely different complexion on the matter. In fact, when I come to consider, I cannot understand how Marchbanks has not been able to drag the wretched girl back to us already. So unnecessary, too, to send for the Inspector. Because he will need some good reason to explain our bringing him up here. The staff simply will not take in what I keep drumming into them about undesirable publicity."

"We haven't found her yet, dear."

But Edge had now gone to the opposite extreme, was overconfident. "Why," she said, and left her desk to go over to the window, "the whole affair is a mare's nest, something tells me." Miss Baker had also risen. She moved over to the telephone.

"And such a shame," Miss Edge continued, holding on to folded curtains at either side with both hands, to face a bright prospect as though crucified. "What a very real shame to torture our nerves in this glorious weather just when the old Place is at its own great best."

"Madam here," Baker said into the receiver. "Would you have Marion sent along at once."

The child must have been expecting it, for, in next to no time, there was her knock on the door.

"Marion," Miss Edge asked, as though Baker had telephoned on her instructions. "When did Mary go to Matron?"

"I couldn't say, ma'am."

"But you told us at breakfast, surely you recollect."

"Yes ma'am."

"When did you see her last then, child?"

"I didn't see her, ma'am."

"You didn't see her?" Edge echoed, an ugly note in her voice. "Oh but, excuse me, you must have. You told us." Marion stood in silence. She looked guilty. "You mean you connived at this disappearance, Marion? Just when my sixth sense had led me to ask you where she was. You say now she never went to Matron?"

"They told me she had, ma'am."

"And who was that, pray?"

"The other girls, ma'am."

"Then you never even saw her this morning?" Miss Baker asked, white about the lips once she found her fears confirmed.

"No ma'am." There was a silence. Edge came away from the window, went right up to the child.

"You can go now, Marion," she said. "But we shall have to see you later about the whole wretched business, once we have got right to the bottom of it. I fear you may not have been quite straight with us, child."

"But I…" the girl began, raising limpid, spaniel's eyes to Miss Edge, and that were filling with easy tears, when the lady broke in on her.

"Yes, you can go, Marion," she repeated. "Perhaps you did not quite catch what I said?"

A call to Matron told them she had not seen Mary since last night.

"If you would manage the Inspector I'll just have a word with Matron, I think," Baker informed Edge.

"I shall get rid of the man," this lady agreed, with decision.

When the sergeant came he mopped his brow.

"Such lovely weather we have had, and it continues," Edge said, as she took him by the hand. "Tell me, would you like a glass of beer after your long ride?" she asked, for she had not reached the position she now held without learning the ways of this world.

"Thank you, ma'am," the sergeant accepted. He sat down before the two desks, one of which lay vacant. His face was traditional, the colour of butcher's meat. When she had ordered his ale over the telephone, she asked, "And how is my friend the Inspector?"

"Ah," the sergeant said. "He was put out, there you are. He asked me to make his excuses, ma'am."

"Yes, the paper work does not grow less, does it?"

"There you are," the man repeated, in agreement. Edge bit her lip with impatience to be rid of him, for she felt there was so little time, and then, at that very instant, a scheme began to form in her mind. "It's not often he gets outside," the sergeant ended.

"Now, this is your beer," Edge announced brightly as one of the juniors on orderly duty carried it in. "Wonders will never cease. They have not forgotten the opener. Time was when a great Place like this brewed its own. You prefer yours in draught, perhaps? But then those days are not missed, not as we are now," she said, with fervour.

He hastily agreed. Behind his big, blank face he wondered once more. He took a pull at the glass. As might have been expected, the beer was flat.

"Which way did you come? It looks so beautiful today, I think," she said.

"By the back," he answered, and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief in such a manner that, for a moment, she wondered if it could be to hide a smile. "I saved a half mile," he said.

"Oh so you came along by Mr Rock's, then?" she made a sure guess, at her most affable. "What a wonderful man for his age."

"He is that," the sergeant said.

"And I dare say you saw some of our dear girls," Miss Edge went on. "At their search," she said, then pulled herself up. "Seeking out our decorations," she explained. "You could not be expected to know, of course, but today is our Anniversary, and we are to hold a little jollification for the children. Oh, no-one will come in from outside," she assured him. "Just a small private gathering and, naturally, we have to dress the premises. So then, because we take pride in what has been entrusted to us, I gave the strictest instructions that they were not to cut the blooms where this could make itself felt, because at the present glorious season, down here, to see is to feel, sergeant."

He had a vision of six hundred golden legs, bare to the morning, and said, "Yes, ma'am." At the same time he had not forgotten what had been hinted on the way, and saw one pair of dripping legs.

"Yes," she agreed, "today our routine is disrupted. But that was not why I needed the Inspector."

The sergeant waited.

"No," she said. "The fact is, Miss Baker and I are made really anxious by what we have noticed in the Press these last few weeks. Up and down the country, sergeant, there have been such distressful cases, so horrible, so inhuman we think, because we have discussed the thing, naturally, though not outside these four walls, of course. I refer to all this interference with young girls, sergeant."

Ah, now we are getting somewhere, he thought to himself. Although it was not to be quite what he expected. "Interference madam?" he asked. But she seemed not to know how to proceed.

"Oh hardly anything really serious," she went on. "Though I always maintain the indictable offence is encouraged, or perhaps provoked would be a better word, by the other party." Here she paused once more.

"By the complainant?" he prompted.

"Exactly," she said. "You will realise that it is a little difficult for me to express myself, how delicate. .," she said, leaning back in her chair, smiling at him defiantly. "But we have noticed so many cases, up and down the land, where girls have been stopped by strangers. And here, it so happens, we are particularly vulnerable. I mean by that, not only our old tumble down Park walls, which are a positive invitation to itinerant labour, but our Mission here which, from the very nature of it, focuses attention upon our little Pursuits."

"Tramps," the sergeant broke in, not quite caught up with her.

"Because we are Trustees, you understand," she went on, after a short silence to give him time. "We stand in the shoes of our students' parents, it is a very real trust which the State has put upon us here, and, as Its Servants, we should not leave a stone unturned…" She seemed to search for the right phrase. He watched as she closed her eyes. He waited. "After all, prevention is better than cure," she brought out at last, smiling at him, bright and sharp.

"What exactly did you have in mind, miss?"

"It was more a premonition, sergeant. But Miss Baker and I experienced what we did so acutely that we decided to talk it over with the Inspector. I suppose we felt in need of advice as much as anything. Because we particularly noted in the papers that it always seems to be the older men, I mean of a certain age."

"Have you anyone in view, ma'am?" the sergeant asked. The drift of her remarks had not escaped him.

"But I have just told you," she said, with another bright smile. "Our Park wall that we rightly cannot get the labour to have repaired. Anyone can step over."

"You feel you would like a watch kept?"

"I hope I have more sense of the urgency of the times in which we live," she replied, with a slight show of indignation. "No," she went on, "we are aware how you yourselves are short staffed also. And of course it is not our girls," she said. "In that sense they are above reproach, absolutely. They are hand picked. As you realise, it is a privilege, a reward for preliminary work well done, for them to be sent to us. No," she wound up, leaning slightly forward while at the same time she took her eyes off his face, "to tell you the truth, we did wonder if you might have information of any characters locally."

He thought for a moment. Then he decided he must pretend he did not understand.

"What characters, miss?" he asked.

"Well, men of an age," she said, "I mean really old men," she said, "who, from what one hears and reads, are more liable to let themselves collapse in that disgraceful way." Then she sheered off. "If I may refer to what is common knowledge, how in the course of your duties you take particular stock of the inhabitants of your own district," she went on with almost a sneer, "then what I am getting at is this, that you should warn us of any such sinister person. Forewarned is forearmed," she said, and gave a really brilliant smile to hide her mounting irritation. He hesitated.

"We've been fortunate round about," he said at last. "I don't think there's been a case of the kind you mention for some years past, ma'am."

"But then, will there never be?" she enquired, assuming a discouraged voice.

"Ah," he said, "now there's a question."

Upon which, her point made, she changed the subject, and, not long afterwards, politely dismissed him.

Winstanley, hastening along a ride, came to where it crossed another. She looked to the right, saw Sebastian with Elizabeth Rock. They were standing within each other's arms, alternately kissing their eyes shut against an azalea in full flower half fallen across the ride. This mass of bloom in the full sunlight was almost the colour of Merode's hair in her bath, a slope of deep golden honey with its sweet heavy scent and a great buzz of bees about; caparisoned with primrose yellow butterflies, some trembling spread wings, some clapping theirs soundlessly together, some tight closed.

"Hey, you two," she called, but then, as she began to approach, and like wings, they came apart, though still holding one another by the hand, she felt such a distress she halted. It was long since she had been kissed like that, and sometimes she wondered if she would ever be again.

"I was just on the look out for you," she continued, in hopes that she had not made a fool of herself, and shown what she felt. But they seemed as dazed as the noisy insect life around, which droned and shuddered while these flowers trumpeted the sun.

"Miss Edge and Miss Baker are back," she said. The others came slowly to her. Beastly woman she's fairly drunk with him, she thought.

"But I'm off," he objected, in what he imagined to be cockney, yet hesitantly, as if he had not entirely found his feet, "I've got the day off, lidy, I'm not 'ere, you 'aven't seen me." And this moment he chose to wink, to cajole her not to speak of what she had just witnessed. She was immediately more than disgusted.

"That excuse would do if this was an ordinary day," she replied. "But there's a bit of a shemozzle on, my children. As you may have heard."

"What's brought them back so bloody soon?" he asked, keeping up the part he had seen fit to choose.

"I was wondering if you'd caught what I said," she remarked, stubbornly.

"Why you don't mean, you can't be trying to explain, what is… it's about Mary, is it?" Elizabeth asked, with dread.

"Oh no, there's no news. It appears their Commissions were postponed, so they came rushing back again, that's all. Evershed says she'll have to cool their car off like a horse. But they've held a staff meeting and you can guess who it was noticed you were absent."

"But gor' love a duck, guv'nor, I'm not on today, I'm tellin' yer."

"I spoke up to tell her, and then that silly ass of a prisoner's friend, Dakers, asked if he should go to find you, even went on to say he happened to know you had slept in after all. But it passed, anyway for a time. The thing is, my lad, I think you ought to put in an appearance."

"That goes for the two of us, then," Mr Birt said in a last attempt to keep up his attitude. "I seen you dashin' about the grounds."

"I made my excuses prettily," she answered, again with some impatience. "There's one of the girls still loose, after all."

"Oh it's my fault," Elizabeth broke out in a wail, while Miss Winstanley observed, not for the first time, how a person's lipstick, when it was smudged halfway to her nose, wounded the whole face like a bullet. "We took what's her name back, you see, then we thought, well it was only natural really, my grandfather's all alone, I had to get dinner, so the thing is, and of course we didn't know they were coming, we just began to walk along but as a matter of fact it was my fault. I know I'm silly but you've heard, haven't you, I haven't been really well, and I asked Seb to see me to the cottage, so foolish when you come to think, as though it was dead of night, in time of course, but then I have been made rather nervous. What I mean is, we none of us know, do we?"

"Don't you fuss, my dear," Mr Birt said in his natural voice, which Winstanley heard so seldom that she was not sure to recognise it, "I'll take you, then I'll nip along and go on duty," he ended, lamely.

"Look Sebastian," the other woman said, "If I were you I'd get there right away. Make some excuse to show yourself."

"But gor' love a duck, what went on, then, at their extry special meeting you're so wrought up about?" he asked, returning to his best cockney, which he knew only from books.

"It was old Edge, "Winstanley told him. "Studying her as I have to I think it was to set her mind at rest. Baker's not much in a crisis. She wanted our support, or so she said. If you ask me, I think she just had us all in to explain what she intended not to do. In other words, to cover herself by being able to say she'd had a staff meeting to discuss 'this unprecedented occurrence', and that we'd all decided, in an ad hoc committee, to proceed on a certain course."

"Which is?" he enquired, in his ordinary voice.

"Why to do nothing at all," she answered. He came out with a disgustingly high, screamed laugh.

"Seb," Miss Rock protested sharply. He broke off at once.