CHAPTER XL.
WHAT MISS COLEMAN SAW THROUGH THE WINDOW
As Miss Coleman had paused, as if her narrative was approaching a conclusion, I judged it expedient to make an attempt to bring the record as quickly as possible up to date.
‘I take it, Miss Coleman, that you have observed what has occurred in the house to-day.’
She tightened her nut-cracker jaws and glared at me disdainfully,—her dignity was ruffled.
‘I’m coming to it, aren’t I?—if you’ll let me. If you’ve got no manners I’ll learn you some. One doesn’t like to be hurried at my time of life, young man.’
I was meekly silent;—plainly, if she was to talk, every one else must listen.
‘During the last few days there have been some queer goings on over the road,—out of the common queer, I mean, for goodness knows that they always have been queer enough. That Arab party has been flitting about like a creature possessed,—I’ve seen him going in and out twenty times a day. This morning—’
She paused,—to fix her eyes on Lessingham. She apparently observed his growing interest as she approached the subject which had brought us there,—and resented it.
‘Don’t look at me like that, young man, because I won’t have it. And as for questions, I may answer questions when I’m done, but don’t you dare to ask me one before, because I won’t be interrupted.’
Up to then Lessingham had not spoken a word,—but it seemed as if she was endowed with the faculty of perceiving the huge volume of the words which he had left unuttered.