“Why—yes. You wanted me?”
“Yes. It's about Sue Wilde.”
She hesitated; then led him into the half-furnished living-room.
“Where is Sue, anyway?”
“When I left her she wras trying to make a fire in a kitchen range. Out in Jersey.”
“But what on earth—”
“Trouble was she didn't understand about the damper in the pipe. I fixed that.”
Betty glanced covertly at her wrist watch. “I don't want to appear unsympathetic,” she said, “but I don't see why she undertakes to shoulder that family. It's—it's quixotic. It's not her sort of thing. She's got her own life to live.”
The Worm, very calm but a little white about the mouth, confronted her. Betty moved restlessly.
“She wants you to pack up her things,” he said. “Sent me to ask.”