‘What’s the matter?’ ‘I don’t know. Rooms get bewitched at night, I believe. Everything seems to be in a different place. Chairs and tables where you least expected them. Oh, hell! Here’s another?
But at this moment Jimmy fortunately connected with the electric-light switch and pressed it down. In another minute two young men were looking at each other in silent horror.
This room was not Pat’s sitting-room. They were in the wrong flat.
To begin with, the room was about ten times more crowded than Pat’s, which explained Donovan’s pathetic bewilderment at repeatedly cannoning into chairs and tables. There was a large round table in the centre of the room covered with a baize cloth, and there was an aspidistra in the window. It was, in fact, the kind of room whose owner, the young men felt sure, would be difficult to explain to. With silent horror they gazed down at the table, on which lay a little pile of letters.
‘Mrs Ernestine Grant,’ breathed Donovan, picking them up and reading the name. ‘Oh, helpl Do you think she’s heard us?’ ‘It’s a miracle she hasn’t heard you,’ said Jimmy. ‘What with your language and the way you’ve been crashing into the furniture.
Come on, for the Lord’s sake, let’s get out of here quickly.’ They hastily switched off the light and retraced their steps on
tiptoe to the lift. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief as they regained the fastness of its depths without further incident.
‘I do like a woman to be a good, sound sleeper,’ he said approvingly. ‘Mrs Ernestine Grant has her points.’ ‘I see if now,’ said Donovan; ‘why we made the mistake in the floor, I mean. Out in that well we started up from the basement.’
He heaved on the rope, and the lift shot up. ‘We’re right this time.’ ‘I devoutly trust we are,’ said Jimmy as he stepped out into anotherinky void. ‘My nerves won’t stand many more shocks of this kind.’ But no further nerve strain was imposed. The first click of the light showed them Pat’s kitchen, and in another minute they were opening the front door and admitting the two girls who were waiting outside.
‘You have been a long time,’ grumbled Pat. ‘Mildred and I have been waiting here ages.’ ‘We’ve had an adventure,’ said Donovan. ‘We might have been hauled off to the police-station as dangerous malefactors.’ Pat had passed on into the sitting-room, where she switched on the light and dropped her wrap on the sofa. She listened with lively interest to Donovan’s account of his adventures.
‘I’m glad she didn’t catch you,’ she commented. ‘I’m sure she’s an old curmudgeon. I got a note from her this morning – wanted to see me some time – something she had to complain about – my piano, I suppose. People who don’t like pianos over their heads shouldn’t come and live in flats. I say, Donovan, you’ve hurt your hand. It’s all over blood. Go and wash it under the tap.’ Donovan looked down at his hand in surprise. He went out of the room obediently and presently his voice called to Jimmy.
‘Hullo,’ said the other, ‘what’s up? You haven’t hurt yourself badly, have you?’ ‘I haven’t hurt myself at all.’ There was something so queer in Donovan’s voice that Jimmy stared at him in surprise. Donovan held out his washed hand and Jimmy saw that there was no mark or cut of any kind on it.
‘That’s odd,’ he said, frowning. ‘There was quite a lot of blood.
Where did it come/rom?’ And then suddenly he realized what his quicker-witted friend had already seen. ‘By Jove,’ he said. ‘It must have come from that flat’ He stopped, thinking over the possibilities his words implied. ‘You’re sure it was – er – blood?’ he said. ‘Not paint?’ Donovan shook his head. ‘It was blood, all right,’ he said, and shivered.
They looked at each other. The same thought was clearly in each of their minds. It was Jimmy who voiced it first.
‘I say,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Do you think we ought to – well go down again – and have – a – a look around? See it’s all right, you know?’ ‘What about the girls?’ ‘We won’t say anything to them. Pat’s going to put on an apron and make us an omelette. We’ll be back by the time they wonder where we are.’ ‘Oh, well, come on,’ said Donovan. ‘I suppose we’ve got to go through with it. I dare say there isn’t anything really wrong.’ But his tone lacked conviction. They got into the lift and descended to the floor below. They found their way across the kitchen without much difficulty and once more switched on the sitting-room light.
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