Death and the Dancing Footman by Ngaio Marsh Read Free Book Online Page A

she’d have a pantechnicon,” said Hersey. “I’m sick of the sound of the wretched woman’s name. She may live in sin all over Dorset as long as she doesn’t include Highfold in the tour.”
    The second-in-command laughed. “
That’s
not very likely, Lady Hersey, is it?”
    “No, thank the Lord. Good-bye, Jane.”

Chapter III
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    “Not very propitious weather for looking at a bathing-pool,” said Mandrake, “but I insist on showing it to you.”
    He had sent the guests off at a round pace to go through Highfold Wood, where the rides were heavy with sodden leaves, down to Jonathan’s model farm and back up a steep lane to the north side of the house, where he limped out to meet them. Here they came on a wide terrace. Beneath them, at the foot of a flight of paved steps flanked by bay trees, was a large concrete swimming-pool set in smooth lawns and overlooked by a charming eighteenth-century pavilion, now trimmed, like a Christmas card, with snow. The floor of the pool had been painted a vivid blue, but now the water was wrinkled and, in the twilight of late afternoon, reflected only a broken pattern of repellent steely greys flecked by dead leaves. Mandrake explained that the pavilion had once been an aviary but that Jonathan had done it up in keeping with its Empire style and that when summer came he meant to hold
fêtes galantes
down there by his new swimming-pool. It would look very Rex Whistlerish, Mandrake said, and would have just the right air of formalized gaiety.
    “At the moment,” said Chloris, “it has an air of formalized desolation, but I see what you mean.”
    “Wouldn’t you like to come for a nice bracing plunge with me, Chloris, before breakfast to-morrow?” asked Nicholas. “Do say Yes.”
    “No, thank you,” said Chloris.
    “It would have been awkward for you,” said William, “if Chloris
had
said Yes.” It was the first remark William had addressed directly to his brother.
    “Not at all,” rejoined Nicholas, and he made his stiff little bow to Chloris.
    “I’d bet ten pounds,” William said to nobody in particular, “that nothing on earth would have got him into that water before or after breakfast.”
    “Would you?” asked Nicholas. “I take you. You’ve lost.”
    Mrs. Compline instantly protested. She reminded Nicholas of the state of his heart. William grinned derisively, staring at Chloris; repeated that the bet was on. The absurd conversation began to take an unpleasant edge. Mandrake felt an icy touch on his cheek, and drew attention to a desultory scatter of snowflakes.
    “If that was our brisk walk,” said Chloris, “I consider we’ve had it. Let’s go in.”
    “Is it a bet?” Nicholas asked his brother.
    “Oh, yes,” said William. “You may have to break the ice, but it’s a bet.”
    To the accompaniment of a lively torrent of disapprobation from Mrs. Compline they walked towards the house. Mandrake’s interest in William mounted with each turn of the situation. William was as full of surprises as a lucky-bag. His sudden proposal of this ridiculous wager was as unexpected as the attitude which he now adopted. He looked hang-dog and frightened. He hung back and said something to his mother, who set that tragically distorted mouth and did not answer. William gave her a look strangely compounded of malice and nervousness and strode after Chloris, who was walking with Mandrake. Nicholas had joined them and Mandrake felt sure that Chloris was very much aware of him. When William suddenly took her arm she started and seemed to draw back. They returned to the accompaniment of an irritating rattle of conversation from Nicholas.
    As soon as they came out on the platform before the house, they found that someone else had arrived. Nicholas’ car had been driven away and in its place stood a very smart three-seater from which servants were taking very smart suit-cases.
    “That’s not Hersey Amblington’s car,” said Mrs. Compline.
    “No,” said