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Miss Silver said in a calm, even voice,

‘Why should he know, Mrs Blount?’

Mrs Blount stared at her.

‘He’s got ways,’ she said.

THIRTY-FIVE

LOOKING BACK UPON the interview, Miss Silver could not feel any satisfaction. It provided much food for thought, aroused both suspicion as to the past and anxiety as to the future, yet supplied none of the answers which these speculations and doubts demanded. After Mrs Blount’s burst of crying she had pulled herself together and would say no more. Like so many people who are threatened, the mere fact that she had spoken of her fears had to some extent dissipated them. As Miss Silver had said, how was Sid to know that he had called out in his sleep and said… Her thought shuddered away from what he had said. The hot tea had done her good. Things are always worse on an empty stomach. She ought to have eaten some breakfast, but her throat had closed up against it. She caught the bus back and got out at Miss Madison’s guest house, which was about halfway up the hill. Lunch was just going in – a really good stew with dumplings in it like her mother used to make, and an apple pie. The people down here called them tarts, but that was nonsense. A tart was an open pastry case filled in with fruit or jam, and with maybe a criss-cross of pastry on the top, but a thing that had the fruit in the middle and was all covered in was a pie, whether it had apples in it, or plums, or anything else you liked. Her mother came from the north, and people in the north gave things their proper names.

She ate some of the apple pie and then went up and lay on her bed and slept for a while. It wasn’t a very quiet sleep, because it was full of rushing dreams. In one of them Sid was angry with her because she had baked an apple pie and the pastry had gone sad. He took the helping she had given him and threw it at her plate and all, and the edge of the plate cut her like a knife, so that the blood soaked through her dress and she knew that she was going to die. And then it was all different and she was in a dark cave that wound and turned and she couldn’t see where she was going, but there was a footstep that followed her all the way. She began to run, but she couldn’t get away from it. It was Sid’s footstep, and Sid’s voice calling after her to stop, only she knew that if she did he would kill her, and she knew how. Those two strong hands of his would come round her neck and wring the life out of her. In her dream they touched her and she screamed. And woke up screaming.

Mr Blount shut the door behind him and clapped his hand over her mouth.

‘Crazy – that’s what you are!’ he said in a low furious voice. ‘You don’t want everyone to think I’m doing you in, do you?’

She pushed at his hand, and he took it away from her mouth.

‘Oh…’ she said on a long-drawn sob. And then, ‘I was dreaming.’

‘Overate yourself at lunch I shouldn’t wonder! What were you dreaming about?’

She said faintly,

‘Someone – running after me…’

He stood over her with a frowning look. No one would have thought him jovial now. After a moment he turned away.

‘Well, get up! I want to talk to you!’

She hadn’t undressed, only loosened her stays and pulled the eiderdown over her. She got up now, laying everything straight on the bed and putting back the pink coverlet. When she had finished he came back from the window where he had stood tapping on the glass and dropped a hand on her shoulder.

‘What’s all this about last night?’ he said.

He could have asked no more terrifying question. Her face went blank with fear.

‘Last night…’

He swore under his breath.

‘You heard. When I came in just now, there was Miss Madison wanting to see me – very nicely spoken and all that, but the first and the last of it was there had been a disturbance in the night and it had waked those two women down the passage – Mrs Doyle and Miss What’s-her-name.’

‘Miss Moxon.’

‘I’m not bothering with her name – I want to know what they heard! All I could tell Miss Madison was that I slept all night, and that if there was any disturbance it must have been you! Anyone say anything to you about it?’

‘No, Sid.’

‘Sure about that?’

‘I didn’t get up.’

‘Breakfast in bed – they’ll charge extra for that!’

‘I didn’t have – breakfast. I had some coffee in the town.’

‘No one spoke to you at lunch?’

He kept staring at her, and she couldn’t look away. She was beginning to feel confused. She tried not to speak, but she heard herself say,

‘Only Miss Moxon.’

‘Did she say she had been disturbed?’

‘Something like that.’

He said, ‘I’ll have what she said, or I’ll cut it out of you!’

The knife – that was her terror. His hand moved towards the pocket where he kept it. ‘Oh, God – any way but that!’ Words were jerked out of her.

‘She only – said – someone called out – and waked her.’

‘What did you say?’

She had never found it easy to tell lies. They just don’t come to you if you haven’t been brought up that way. She stared helplessly.

What did you say?’

‘I said – you – called out.’

He took her by the other shoulder too, held her face right up to his, and cursed her under his breath. Even if someone had been just outside the door they wouldn’t have heard what he said, but she had to hear it. She had to hear it. What it led up to was,

‘You told her I called out?’

She was sick with fear. It was no use trying to hold anything back. She got out two words on a gasping breath.

‘She knew…’

He let go of her suddenly and stood back. Perhaps he was afraid of what his strong hands might do. He couldn’t kill her here in Miss Madison’s Pink Room. He walked away, getting as far from her as he could before he turned and said,

‘You said I called out. Was that true?’

‘Yes, Sid. You were dreaming.’

‘Did I just call out, or did I say something?’

‘You – called – out.’

He made a step towards her.

‘If you lie to me, I’ll slit your throat!’

‘No, no, I won’t – I’ll tell you.’

‘What did I say?’

He wouldn’t stop asking her until she told him. There was no strength in her to hold anything back. She told him what he had said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew what she had done. She tried to undo it.

‘She didn’t – hear what you said. She only heard you call out. Nobody heard what you said – except me.’

He repeated the words quite smoothly and quietly,

‘Nobody heard except you? But you heard me – or you say you did. How many people have you gone blabbing to?’

‘No one – no one.’

He said,

‘And you’d better not! D’you hear? And now you’d better get busy and pack! We’re off just as soon as we can be ready!’

‘Where – where are we going?’

He said, ‘You’ll know when you get there!’ and began to take his things out of the chest of drawers and throw them into a suitcase.

THIRTY-SIX

MISS SILVER LAID her hands down for a moment upon her knitting.

‘I believe I have told you everything that passed between us. I should like to know what you think about it.’

Frank Abbott did not reply immediately. He looked at her, neat and earnest, with the half-finished vest in her lap. He knew from experience that the description of her interview with Mrs Blount would have been a most carefully accurate one. Just what it all amounted to was another matter. He said so, adding,

‘There might be quite a simple explanation, you know.’

‘Yes, Frank?’

‘Mrs Blount may be off her head.’

She picked up her knitting again.

‘That was not my impression.’

‘It would cover your account of her behaviour.’

She coughed gently.

‘No account of anyone’s behaviour can convey more than a bare outline. Mrs Blount was very much afraid.’