"Sorry to miss Madame though. I wanted a word with that lady before I went down to the Antarctic," I could not resist the mischievous impulse to show him Alma's letter.
While he read it his bright face darkened (for all the world like a jeweller's window when the shutter comes down on it), and when he had finished it he said once more:
"I hate that woman! She's like a snake. I'd like to put my foot on it."
And then—
"She may run away as much as she likes, but I will yet, you go bail, I will."
He was covered with dust and wanted to wash, so I rang for a maid, who told me that Mr. and Mrs. Eastcliff's rooms had been prepared for Mr. Conrad. This announcement (though I tried to seem unmoved) overwhelmed me with confusion, seeing that the rooms in question almost communicated with my own. But Martin only laughed and said:
"Stunning! We'll live in this wing of the house and leave the rest of the old barracks to the cats, should we?"
I was tingling with joy, but all the same I knew that a grim battle was before me.