“That was not very polite.”
Thomasina said earnestly,
“Oh, but Anna wasn’t. That’s what made it so difficult- about her making friends, you know. She used to be rude, and then she would go on about people not liking her. You see, unless she had a crush on anyone she just wouldn’t bother.”
Miss Silver deplored the expression which Thomasina had used, but she did not feel that this was the time to comment on it. There were points of interest. She said,
“Miss Ball was liable to sudden violent fancies?”
“Yes, but they didn’t generally come to anything. People didn’t really like it-she was too intense.”
“Then she may have taken one of these fancies for this Mr. Sandrow.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Did either of the Miss Tremletts see him again?”
“Yes, they did. Gwyneth was in Ledlington, and whilst she was waiting for her bus she saw a car go by. She said Anna Ball was driving it, and there was a man with her. She said he had a red beard and red hair. She really was rather offended, because she thought they might have picked her up and given her a lift back to Deep End.”
“Perhaps they did not see her.”
“She swears Anna did. She has very good sight, and you know, you really can always tell. She says Anna looked straight at her and went by. Of course if I was out with somebody I liked, I don’t suppose I should want to pick Gwyneth up.” Thomasina’s eyes danced for a moment.
Miss Silver repeated the proverb with which Anna Ball had so rudely rebuffed Mrs. Craddock.
“Two is company. But, my dear, all this conversation about Miss Ball-it sounds a little as if the Miss Tremletts were aware that you had an interest.”
“Oh, no-not really… They talk about everyone. Do you know, old Mr. Masters in the cottage with the post-box is as jealous as he can be because the postman’s father-in-law is going to be a hundred next year and he is only ninety-seven or something. And Mrs. Hogbin who lives next door but two has had thirteen children, and they are all alive and doing well. One of them sends her a parcel every week. And Mr. Tupper who works in a nursery garden the other side of Deeping has had two lots of wisdom teeth.”
“My dear!”
Thomasina nodded.
“And Miranda is a very pleasant neighbour, and of course there’s nothing wrong about it, but they do think it isn’t quite wise to see so much of Augustus Remington-living next door, you know, and running in and out all the time. And then there is Mr. Robinson. So strange that he should live like that-just one man with a whole wing of the house to himself-no one to cook or do anything for him, and half the windows boarded up. And he won’t go anywhere except to watch birds-not even to their parties, which does seem so very strange. They had been going on like that for hours before they got to Anna.”
Maurice came running back to them, red-faced and out of breath.
“Jennifer says we’ll be in the wood, and if you want us you can coo-ee!”
“That will do very nicely, Maurice.”
He ran, off again, kicking his heels and waving his arms.
Remembering the unheralded flight of all three children on their first walk together, it was impossible for Miss Silver not to feel some gratification.
When he had gone she said,
“Miss Ball never mentioned a man friend to you?”
“No, never. I thought she told me everything, but-I suppose she didn’t.”
In Miss Silver’s experience no one ever did.
Thomasina went on speaking.
“And there’s another thing she never told me. I didn’t know that she could drive. I suppose she learned when she was in Germany -she didn’t tell me.”
“And she never mentioned the name of Sandrow?”
“She didn’t mention it, but-I was going to tell you. When I didn’t get any answer to my advertisement, I sent for her box. You know, the one she had forwarded to me when she came down here. It wasn’t any use leaving it up there, and I thought I would go through it again, just in case there was anything that would give a clue. I thought there might be something I had missed.”
“A most sensible course. And you found something?”
“I didn’t think I had-not till Gwyneth and Elaine were talking last night. Now I’m not so sure. I’ll tell you. One of the things in the box was an old handbag. The clasp didn’t hold any more, so I expect that was why she didn’t take it with her. Well, I went through it, and it was empty except for a torn-off piece of paper crushed down behind the mirror, and the glass was broken. And there was this bit of paper crumpled up behind it. It was just a piece off one of those thin blocks, with names scribbled on it-Sandro, spelt the Italian way, S A N D R O. And then with a W tacked on-Sandrow. And then spelled a lot of other ways-I can’t remember them all-things like Sindrow-Sendrow. I just didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now-it’s odd, isn’t it?”
Miss Silver thought it very odd indeed. She said so.
It was on their way home that she had her first sight of Mr. John Robinson, the tenant of the other wing. The children, who had made friends with Thomasina, were all talking at once. They wanted her to come home to tea with them, and when she said that the Miss Tremletts would be expecting her they took her by the arms and ran with her down the slope and across the unkempt grass.
By the time Miss Silver, at a more sedate pace, came up with them they were in the dank courtyard looking up at the blind and mutilated face of the house. Benjy was saying,
“And there’s nothing left inside-only spiders, and dust, and Papa’s study what we mustn’t never go near because of his book that he’s writing, and because of the stones that might fall on us.”
His high childish voice set up an echo. The word “fall” came back from the enclosing wings. The air still trembled with it as John Robinson came round the corner to the left and stood for a moment on the outskirts of the group.
Afterwards, when Miss Silver tried to formulate a description of him, she found that it would have fitted so many other people as to be of very little value. He was neither tall nor short. He seemed to be of a slim build, but his clothes were so loose and baggy that even this might be in doubt, since a loose raincoat may hide a sagging waist-line. Beneath the raincoat aged flannel trousers and deplorable boots. Above, a long woollen muffler of uncertain shade. And above that a short beard, shaggy eyebrows, and an unkempt head of brown hair just flecked with grey. He stood, he looked-at Miss Silver in her black cloth coat, her elderly fur tippet, and her second-best hat; at Thomasina, glowing from her run; at the children, laughing and whispering with her. He looked, and spoke with a marked country accent.
“Youth at the prow-and Prudence-at the helm,” he said, and on this misquotation walked rapidly away, leaving Miss Silver quite a little surprised and not at all sure that she cared about being alluded to as Prudence by a total stranger. Better that, it is true, than the “Pleasure” of the original, but why the quotation at all?
As soon as he was gone the children bubbled over with information about him.
“That was Mr. Robinson.”