At last a caretaker appeared, I whistled to Nobby, and we passed up a short well-kept drive.
A moment later we had left the sunlight behind and had entered a huge dim hall.
"Damp," said Berry instantly, sniffing the air. "Damp for a monkey. I can smell the good red earth."
Daphne sniffed thoughtfully.
"I don't think so," she said. "When a house has been shut up like this, it's bound to——"
"It's wonderful," said her husband, "what you can't smell when you don't want to. Never mind. If you want to live over water, I don't care. But don't say I didn't warn you. Besides, it'll save us money. We can grow moss on the floors instead of carpets."
"It does smell damp," said Adèle, "but there's central heating. See?" She pointed to a huge radiator. "If that works as it should, it'll make your carpets fade."
Berry shrugged his shoulders.
"I see what it is," he said. "You two girls have scented cupboards. I never yet knew a woman who could resist cupboards. In a woman's eyes a superfluity of cupboards can transform the most poisonous habitation into a desirable residence. If you asked a woman what was the use of a staircase, she'd say, 'To put cupboards under.'"
By now the shutters had been opened, and we were able to see about us. As we were glancing round, the caretaker shuffled to a door beneath the stairs.