‘You don’t suppose he is going to pay me, Mrs Wilson?’ ‘Who else should?’
‘Why, the books themselves, of course.’
Evidently she thought I was making game of her, for she was silent.
‘Will you show me which room I can have?’ I said. ‘It must be as near this one as possible. Is the next particularly wanted?’ I asked, pointing to the door which led into Clara’s room.
She went to it quickly, and opened it far enough to put her hand in and take the key from the other side, which she then inserted on my side, turned in the lock, drew out, and put in her pocket.
‘That room is otherwise engaged,’ she said. ‘You must be content with one across the corridor.’
‘Very well—if it is not far. I should make slow work of it, if I had to carry the books a long way.’
‘You can have one of the footmen to help you,’ she said, apparently relenting.
‘No, thank you,’ I answered. ‘I will have no one touch the books but myself.’
‘I will show you one which I think will suit your purpose,’ she said, leading the way.