The Red House MysteryMilne, A. A. (Alan Alexander)
General
The Red House Mystery
Milne, A. A. (Alan Alexander)
Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction
“I want to see Mr. Mark Ablett,” he growled. It sounded almost like a
threat.
Audrey recovered herself and smiled reassuringly at him. She had a
smile for everybody.
“Yes, sir. He is expecting you, if you will come this way.”
“Oh! So you know who I am, eh?”
“Mr. Robert Ablett?”
“Ay, that’s right. So he’s expecting me, eh? He’ll be glad to see me,
eh?”
“If you will come this way, sir,” said Audrey primly.
She went to the second door on the left, and opened it.
“Mr. Robert Ab—” she began, and then broke off. The room was empty. She
turned to the man behind her. “If you will sit down, sir, I will find
the master. I know he’s in, because he told me that you were coming
this afternoon.”
“Oh!” He looked round the room. “What d’you call this place, eh?”
“The office, sir.”
“The office?”
“The room where the master works, sir.”
“Works, eh? That’s new. Didn’t know he’d ever done a stroke of work in
his life.”
“Where he _writes_, sir,” said Audrey, with dignity. The fact that Mr.
Mark “wrote,” though nobody knew what, was a matter of pride in the
housekeeper’s room.
“Not well-dressed enough for the drawing-room, eh?”
“I will tell the master you are here, sir,” said Audrey decisively.
She closed the door and left him there.
Well! Here was something to tell auntie! Her mind was busy at once,
going over all the things which he had said to her and she had said to
him—quiet-like. “Directly I saw him I said to myself—” Why, you could
have knocked her over with a feather. Feathers, indeed, were a
perpetual menace to Audrey.
However, the immediate business was to find the master. She walked
across the hall to the library, glanced in, came back a little
uncertainly, and stood in front of Cayley.
“If you please, sir,” she said in a low, respectful voice, “can you
tell me where the master is? It’s Mr. Robert called.”
“What?” said Cayley, looking up from his book. “Who?”
Audrey repeated her question.
“I don’t know. Isn’t he in the office? He went up to the Temple after
lunch. I don’t think I’ve seen him since.”
“Thank you, sir. I will go up to the Temple.”
Cayley returned to his book.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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