“Rather!” said Christina Alberta and telephoned forthwith to put off Paul Lambone and Wilfred Devizes and hurried off with a combatant light in her eye to the Underground and Liverpool Street Station.
§ 3
When Christina Alberta got down to Woodford Wells it seemed to her that the laundry was just a little smaller than it used to be and that a slight tarnish had fallen upon the bright blue delivery vans. The swastika upon them had been covered over by paper bills in red lettering saying: “Under Entirely New Management. Address all Communications to the Managing Director Samuel Widgery Esq. By Order.”
She went up the garden path to the door that had been home to her for nearly all her life, and it was opened to her by Sam Widgery himself, who had seen her coming. “So you came down,” he said, and seemed to hesitate about admitting her. He was a tallish, stooping man with a large bare pock-marked face, a dropping nether lip, a large nose that snored occasionally when he breathed, and furtive very small brown eyes. He was clad in dark grey ill-fitting garments, with a frayed collar and a very worn made-up black satin tie. His waistcoat was mainly unbuttoned and he fidgeted with his hands. He looked at Christina Alberta as though he found her more formidable than he had thought her.
“Did you see Daddy?” said Christina Alberta, coming straight to the point.
He compressed his mouth and shook his head from side to side as though he recalled painful things.
“Was he bad? Was he queer or—dreadful?”
“Not too loud, my dear,” he said in his husky whispering voice. “We don’t want every one to hear about your trouble. Come in here where we can talk properly.”
He led the way into the little living-room in which her father had so recently planned the conditions for the conversion of the laundry into a limited company. The familiar furniture had been rearranged rather amazingly, and a large, dark bureau had been placed under the window. With discreet gestures, Sam Widgery closed the door and came towards her. “Sit down, Chrissie,” he said, “and don’t get excited. I was afraid you might come rushing down here. But of course I was bound to write to you.”
“Did you see him?” she repeated.