But Lizzie could bear no more.
“Why don’t you read the funny page once in a while?” she wailed and hurried to close the windows in the billiard room. The door leading into the billiard room shut behind her.
Miss Cornelia remained reading for a moment. Then—was that a sound from the alcove? She dropped the paper, went into the alcove and stood for a moment at the foot of the stairs, listening. No—it must have been imagination. But, while she was here, she might as well put on the spring lock that bolted the door from the alcove to the terrace. She did so, returned to the living-room and switched off the lights for a moment to look out at the coming storm. It was closer now—the lightning flashes more continuous. She turned on the lights again as Billy re-entered with three candles and a box of matches.
He put them down on a side table.
“New gardener come,” he said briefly to Miss Cornelia’s back.
Miss Cornelia turned. “Nice hour for him to get here. What’s his name?”
“Say his name Brook,” said Billy, a little doubtful. English names still bothered him—he was never quite sure of them at first.
Miss Cornelia thought. “Ask him to come in,” she said. “And Billy—where are the keys?”
Billy silently took two keys from his pocket and laid them on the table. Then he pointed to the terrace door which Miss Cornelia had just bolted.
“Door up there—spring lock,” he said.