“Did you want to see him particularly?”
“That’s why I asked, baby. Tell him Ross.”
She said, “I’ll see. He’s very busy right now.”
Fenner watched her go away behind the curtain. He thought her shape from behind was pretty good.
She came back after a while and said, “Will you come up?”
He followed her behind the curtain and up the short flight of stairs. He liked the scent she used, and halfway up the stairs he told her so. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. She had big white teeth. “What do I do now?” she said. “Should my face go red?”
He shook his head seriously. “I just like to tell a dame when she’s good,” he said.
She pointed to a door. “He’s in there,” she said. Then, after a little pause, she said, “I like you. You’ve got nice eyes,” and she went downstairs, patting her blonde curls with long white fingers.
Fenner fingered his tie. “Some frill,” he thought, and turned the door handle and walked in.
The room was obviously a workshop. Four coffins stood in a line on trestles. Nightingale was screwing a brass plate on one of them.