‘Now don’t be silly. It isn’t cheek, and you know it’s not. Besides, he’s tremendously clever, you can see that, and full of push and go. Hurry up and say you will, he’s coming back.’
‘Well, I’ll see,’ he muttered, receiving her quick glance of gratitude. ‘I’ll have a talk to him.’ He could see that door opening behind him in her very eyes.
‘The world’s great age begins anew.’ Penderel’s voice rang through that dim place. His sudden high spirits seemed to light it up. ‘Gladys, Sir William, I’ve changed my socks and trousers—in the dark too, mind you—and now I’m a new man. I don’t know what there was in that room. I just stood behind the door. Perhaps it was full of monsters, all watching me. By the way, you’ve been talking about me. I see it written in your faces. Your silence tells me all. I could even guess what you’ve been saying. Here’s the evidence. Sir William knows, in his heart of hearts, that even if he would, I wouldn’t.’
‘You’ve been listening,’ Gladys cried, making a face at him.
‘I only heard three words,’ he replied. ‘The rest was intuition, for which we men are now becoming famous. We may not be able to argue, to debate, to reason, but we know. Well, my first step in this new life is to locate the missing Wavertons. If necessary we could all creep round the house until we heard Waverton’s snore. Then we’ll sing Sir William here to sleep again, and after that, you and I, Gladys, will find a corner and talk and talk, at least I’ll talk and you’ll probably sleep. The dawn, which must be somewhere on its way, will find me talking. Mr. Femm will come down to breakfast—but you can’t imagine him at breakfast, can you?—in fact, you can’t imagine breakfast here at all. Try to think of it.’
‘I can’t,’ said Gladys, decisively. Then, after a short pause, very slowly and clearly she added ‘I hate this house.’
‘Rum old place certainly.’ This from Sir William. Penderel said nothing. He was staring curiously at Gladys, who was strolling away.
She stopped. ‘It’s the worst house I’ve ever been in. And that’s saying a lot, as you’d admit if you knew anything about professional digs. There’s something about it—I dunno—like a bad smell—something putrid.’ She walked on and then stood looking at the staircase.
Sir William took Penderel to one side. ‘No business of mine, of course,’ he said gruffly, ‘but what’s this about you and Gladys?’
‘I’ll let you into the secret,’ Penderel returned gaily. ‘And, by the way, isn’t it funny that officially, according to the book of words, you and I ought to be totally incapable of talking to one another like ordinary human beings? At the very least, we ought to be embarrassed to the stuttering point.’