Here Comes a Chopper by Gladys Mitchell Read Free Book Online

situation, but, even if Mrs Denbies rode straight back, she couldn’t have been there so very long before us. I wonder what explanation she gave for coming back by herself, though?’
    ‘Talking of explanations, I’d like an explanation of how my half-crowns got put back into my rucksack. It makes me feel rather an ass.’
    ‘I expect the servants are forbidden to take tips from visitors, that’s all.’
    ‘But nobody would have known. There was no one else near when I slipped them the money, was there? No, I expect they’re used to millionaires—the servants, I mean—and the money wasn’t enough.’
    ‘They didn’t seem a bit like that to me. It was a good dinner, though, wasn’t it? I enjoyed it.’
    ‘Wizard, I thought. What was the nephew like? I hardly met him.’
    ‘Captain Ranmore? I didn’t like him much. Of course, he’s old—quite forty. I should think he’d make quite a nice father.’
    ‘Is George his son?’
    ‘I shouldn’t think so. It didn’t seem like that—and you know what you said about fathers, before we got to the house. There were lots of relations, though, weren’t there? I didn’t get them all sorted out. Captain Ranmore was telling me about them, but we didn’t get to the end. We were going all round the table, and then it came to the crackers. Oh, except that, funnily enough, he missed over the woman next to me, although he mentioned the man and girl on the other side of her—you know, the young ones. The girl was in pink. They were brother and sister. Name of Clandon.’
    ‘I think they’re twins.’
    ‘I thought they might be. I rather liked the look of him. Did you?’
    ‘Clandon? Oh, yes, he looked all right. So you don’t know who the woman was on your left? She was certainly an odd-looking wench. Repressed or something, I should say. Perpetual spinster, or family breadwinner, perhaps. Under the weather, anyhow.’
    ‘Perhaps she is Lady Catherine’s companion. I should think that might be rather wearing.’
    ‘Lord, yes! Although I think I preferred Lady Catherine to that female I got stuck with. Not Mrs Bradley. I liked her very much. I mean the other one. You know, the digger-up of unconsidered trifles—the archaeologist woman.’
    ‘Oh, was she? I’m not sure whether Captain Ranmore mentioned her or not. The tutor seemed nice, I thought.’
    ‘Yes, quite a good chap. Who was the heavyweight next to Ranmore on his right?’
    ‘Miss Pigdon, Lady Catherine’s secretary.’
    ‘Would she have a secretary
and
a companion? I thought they were jobs for one person.’
    ‘They ought to be, anyway. Perhaps the other girl, the queer one, is some sort of poor relation.’
    ‘Yes, I should think she must be. That would account for her, wouldn’t it? The monumental depression, and that sort of thing. And, talking of depression, is this bally train going to stop at every station?’
    It was a tiresome, crawling journey. Dorothy, who had taken a corner seat, leaned back and closed her eyes. Roger crossed over and sat beside her. He looked at her brown, small, childish hands, and, as he was speculating upon them, the train, like a tired horse approaching its stable, gave a sudden snort, gathered speed, and, as suddenly, jerked on its brakes with a hideous, involuntary squeal and pulled up sharply.
    ‘Now, what?’ said Roger. ‘I suppose we’ve lost a couple of wheels or something, or left a coach behind.’
    Dorothy sat up, now wide awake, and looked out of the window.
    ‘We’re not at a station,’ she said.
    ‘That’s nothing to occasion surprise on this line,’ Roger remarked. ‘I should think we musthave stopped half a dozen times already outside stations.’
    ‘You really ought to have let me come back alone. It would have been ever so much better,’ said Dorothy, trying to see into the gloom.
    ‘I could never have faced old Bob,’ said Roger, grinning. ‘I say, what are those fellows playing at?’ He got up, let down the window and stuck his