“There’s a cat and canary feeling about this house,” she said. “I wish I was home!”
Diana was impressed by the abysmal dejection of the woman.
“Get another cup and saucer, Mr. Superbus,” she said. “Aunt Lizzie would like some tea.”
Julius had gone down on his knees before the fireplace, in that attitude resembling a priest of some mystic sect of fire-worshippers. Straightening his back, he looked up anxiously.
“You will find a cup and saucer on the servery at the end of the passage,” said Diana. “You need not go down to the kitchen.”
Julius rose with relief.
“I don’t mind the kitchen,” he said untruly.
It was Heloise who lit the fire and crouched above it, folded arms on knees, staring down at the little banners of flame. It seemed to her that a million years had passed since she had discussed anybody’s soul. Watching her, Diana had a view of a delicately moulded cheek and the tip of a well-shaped nose, and experienced an inexplicable wave of compassion toward the woman.
“What is Double Dan to you?” she asked.
Heloise shrugged her left shoulder.