Philippe was a little subdued for the rest of the evening, but on the whole survived the ordeal by uncle pretty well. After he was in bed I dined alone in my room. It was Albertine, Madame de Valmy's sour-faced maid, who brought my supper in. She did it in tight-lipped silence, making it very clear that she was demeaning herself unwillingly.
"Thanks, Albertine," I said cheerfully, as she set the last plate down just a shade too smartly. "Oh, and by the way -"
The woman turned in the doorway, her sallow face not even inquiring. She radiated all the charm and grace of a bad-tempered skunk. "Well?"
I said: "I wonder if you can remember whether I got Mrs. Seddon's tablets for her last week, or not?"
"Non," said Albertine, and turned to go. "Do you mean I didn't or do you mean you don't remember?" She spoke sourly over her shoulder without turning. "I mean I do not know. Why?"
"Only because Mrs. Seddon asked me to get the tablets today and Monsieur Garcin said he gave them to me last week. If that's the case you'd think I must have handed them to her with her other packages. I've no recollection of them at all. D'you know if there was a prescription with the list you gave me?"
The square shoulders lifted. "Perhaps. I do not know." The shallow black eyes surveyed me with dislike. "Why do you not ask her yourself?"
"Very well, I will," I said coldly. "That will do, Albertine."
But the door was already shut. I looked at it for a moment with compressed lips and then began my meal. When, some little time later, there came a tap on the door and Mrs. Seddon surged affably in, I said, almost without preamble:
"That Albertine woman. What's biting her? She's about as amiable as a snake."
Mrs. Seddon snorted. "Oh, her. She's going about like a wet month of Sundays because I told her to bring your supper up. Berthe's helping Mariette get a room ready for Mr. Rowl seeing as how Mariette won't work along with Albertine anyhow and she's as sour as a lemon if you ask her to do anything outside Madam's own rooms. Her and that Bernard, they're a pair. It's my belief he'd rob a bank for the Master if asked, but he'd see your nose cheese and the rats eating it before he'd raise a little finger for anybody else."
"I believe you. What I can't understand is why Madame puts up with her."
"You don't think she has that sour-milk face for Madam, do you? Oh no, it's all niminy-piminy butter-won't-melt there, you mark my words." Conversation with Mrs. Seddon was nothing if not picturesque. "But she's like that with everyone else in the place bar Bernard, and it's my belief she's as jealous as sin if Madam so much as smiles at anybody besides herself. She knows Madam likes you, and that's the top and bottom of it, dear, believe you me."
I said, surprised: "Madame likes me? How d'you know?'*
"Many's the nice thing she's said about you," said Mrs. Seddon comfortably, "so you don't have to fret yourself over a bit of lip from that Albertine."
I laughed. "I don't. How's the asthma? You sound better."
"I am that. It comes and goes. This time of year it's a nuisance, but never near so bad as it used to be. I remember as a girl Miss Debbie's mother saying to me-"
I stopped that one with the smoothness of much practice. "I'm afraid Monsieur Garcin wouldn't give me the anti-histamine today. He said I got it last week. Did I give it to you, Mrs. Seddon? I'm terribly ashamed of myself, but I can't remember. D'you know if it was with the other things I got for you? There was some Nestlés chocolate, wasn't there, and some buttons, and some cotton-wool-and was it last week you got your watch back from the repairers?"
"Was it now? Maybe it was. I can't mind just now about the pills, but I know there were a lot of things and the pills may have been with them." She laughed a little wheezily. "I can't say I took much notice, not wanting them till now, but Mr. Garsang's probably right. He's as finicky as the five-times-table, and about as lively. I'll have a look in my cupboard tonight. I'm sorry to give you the bother, dear."
"Oh, that doesn't matter. I did get you the aspirins and the eau-de-cologne. They're here, with your change."
"Oh, thanks, dear-miss, I mean.'*
I said: "Is Monsieur Florimond staying, or is he only here for dinner?"
"He only came for dinner, but I dare say he'll stay on late to see Mr. Rowl. It might yet be they'll ask him to stay the night if the fog gets any thicker."
I got up and went over to the balcony windows.
"I don't see any fog. It seems a fine enough night."
"Eh? Oh yes. I think it's only down by the water. We're high up here. But the road runs mostly along the river, and there's been accidents in the valley before now in the mist. It's a nasty road, that, in the dark."
"I can imagine it might be." I came back to my chair, adding, with a memory of the recent uncomfortable session in the drawing-room: "Perhaps Monsieur Raoul won't get up here after all tonight."
She shook her head. "He'll come. If he said he was coming he'll come." She eyed me for a moment and said: "Did they- was there anything said downstairs, like?"
"Nothing. They wondered what brought him, that was all."
"They've not much call to wonder," she said darkly. "There's only one thing'll make him set foot in the place and that's money."
"Oh?" I said, rather uncomfortably. There were limits to gossip, after all. "I thought-I got the impression it might be some business to do with Bellevigne."
"Well," said Mrs. Seddon, "that's what I mean. It's always Bellyveen and money." She sighed. "I told you, Mr. Rowl manages it for him and now and again he comes up and talks to him about it and then"-she sighed again-"there's words. It's trouble every time, what with Mr. Rowl wanting money for Bellyveen and the master wanting it for Valmy and before you know where you are it's cat and dog, or maybe I should say dog and dog because nobody could say Mr. Rowl's like a cat, the horrible sneaking beasts, but a dogfight it's always been, ever since Mr. Rowl was big enough to speak up for himself and-"
"He-he must be a careful landlord," I said hastily.
"Oh, I don't deny he makes a good job of Bellyveen-he's too like his father not to, if you see what I mean-but they do say he rackets about the place plenty between times. There's stories-"
"You can't believe everything you hear," I said.
"No, indeed, that's true," said Mrs. Seddon, a shade regretfully, "and especially when it's about Mr. Rowl, if you follow me, miss, because he's the sort that'd get himself talked about if he lived in a convent, as the saying is." I’m sure you're right," I said.
"And where does he get the money, I ask you that?" Mrs. Seddon was now fully and enjoyably launched. “Where did he get the car he was driving last time he was here? As long as the Queen Mary and a horn like
the Last Trump, and you can't tell me he got anything out of the Master so I ask you, where?"
"Well," I said mildly, "where?"
"Ah," said Mrs. Seddon darkly, "you may well ask. I heard the Master ask him that very question, sharp-like, the last time he was here. And Mr. Rowl wouldn't tell him; just passed it off in that way he has with something about a lucky night and a lucky number."
I laughed. "It sounds to me as if he won it at roulette. Good luck to him."
She looked a little shocked. "Well, miss! I don't say as how I think a little flutter does any harm and I'm as partial to a nice game of whist as anyone, but-well, many's the time I wonder what Miss Debbie would have said. Many's the time she said to me 'Mary,' she said-"
"Forgive me," I said quickly, "but it's time for Philippe's chocolate. I left him reading in bed and I must put his light out."
"Eh? Oh, yes, to be sure, how time goes on, doesn't it? And it's long past time I ought to be seeing if Berthe and Mariette have put that room properly to rights…" She heaved herself onto her feet and plodded to the door, which I opened for her. "Have they remembered the milk?" "It was on the tray."