"There go the lights!" grumbled Lizzie, her fingers still touching
the prayer book, as if for protection. Miss Cornelia did not answer
her directly.
"We'll put the detective in the blue room when he comes," she said.
"You'd better go up and see if it's all ready."
Lizzie started to obey, going toward the alcove to ascend to the
second floor by the alcove stairs. But Miss Cornelia stopped her.
"Lizzie--you know that stair rail's just been varnished. Miss
Dale got a stain on her sleeve there this afternoon--and Lizzie--"
"Yes'm?"
"No one is to know that he is a detective. Not even Billy." Miss
Cornelia was very firm.
"Well, what'll I say he is?"
"It's nobody's business."
"A detective," moaned Lizzie, opening the hall door to go by the
main staircase. "Tiptoeing around with his eye to all the keyholes.
A body won't be safe in the bathtub." She shut the door with a
little slap and disappeared. Miss Cornelia sat down--she had many
things to think over--"if I ever get time really to think of
anything again," she thought, because with gardeners coming who
aren't gardeners--and Lizzie hearing yells in the grounds and--
She started slightly. The front door bell was ringing--a long
trill, uncannily loud in the quiet house. She sat rigid in her
chair, waiting. Billy came in.
"Front door key, please?" he asked urbanely. She gave him the key.
"Find out who it is before you unlock the door," she said. He
nodded.
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