As a result of the skirt dancing, the furniture of the empty
drawing-room was a little scattered and untidy, but Feather had
found a suitable corner among cushions on a sofa, after everyone
had gone leaving Coombe alone with her. She wished he would sit
down, but he preferred to stand in his still, uncomfortable way.
"I know you are going to tell me something," she broke the silence.
"I am. When I went out of the room, I did not drive round to my
club as I said I found myself obliged to. I went upstairs to the
third floor--to the Nursery."
Feather sat quite upright.
"YOU went up to the Nursery!" If this was the reason for his staying,
what on earth had he come upon in the region of the third floor,
and how ridiculously unlike him to allow himself to interfere.
Could it be Andrews and Jennings? Surely Andrews was too old.--This
passed across her mind in a flash.
"You called Andrews to use her authority with the child when she
would not shake hands with me. The little creature, for some reason
of her own, evidently feels an antipathy to me. That interested
me and I watched her as Andrews whispered in her ear. The woman's
vanity was stung. I realized that she whispered a threat. A hint
of actual ferocity showed in her eyes in spite of herself. Robin
turned pale."
"Andrews was quite right. Children must be punished when they are
rude.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190