Read Online The Daffodil Affair by Michael Innes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael Innes
Tags: The Daffodil Affair
Ads: Link
Maidment, suppose yourself passionately to desire some unlawful delight.’
Miss Maidment wriggled on her seat – but not at all as if she were contriving to obey this injunction.
‘And consider yourself as having, at the same time, a conscience which forbids such indulgence. You are torn between conflicting forces. You are like the souls of the dead in the old stained-glass windows; the angels are tugging at your hair and the devils at your toes. You follow me, Maidment?’
Miss Maidment made an indecisive noise; it acknowledged the theological trend of her employer’s remarks by being faintly devotional in tone.
‘The strain is great, and you let go. You let yourself go in the middle; and where there was one Maidment there are now two.’ Lady Caroline frowned, apparently finding this a displeasing thought. ‘But of course you still have only one body . The two personalities share it, each taking sole possession for a time. In this way the licentious and the puritanical Maidment each gets her turn, and a certain degree of nervous conflict is thus eliminated. You see, Maidment?’
Miss Maidment again made a noise; then – unexpectedly – she contrived speech. ‘I don’t understand it at all. It sounds to me much more like being possessed by evil spirits.’
‘Lady Caroline’s description of the condition is excellent,’ said Miss Appleby. ‘But Miss Maidment too has made a significant observation. I have no doubt, John, that you will take account of it. Plainly, it has its place – as has another item on which you are certainly informed. I mean the Bloomsbury affair.’
‘Ah,’ said Appleby.
‘What the newspapers’ – Appleby’s aunt again consulted her cuttings – ‘have been calling the Mystery of the Absconding House.’
‘Miss Appleby,’ said Lady Caroline severely, ‘houses do not abscond. Dishonest servants abscond. You are confused.’
‘I do not think I am, dear Lady Caroline. This house has undoubtedly made off – and very possibly to Capri. Moreover, it is a haunted house. A most substantial eighteenth-century house in a Bloomsbury square. Dr Johnson once investigated a ghost there. And now it has been stolen.’
‘Houses may not be stolen, dear Miss Appleby. The proposition is absurd.’
‘In normal times it would no doubt be so. But at present it is quite feasible to steal a house. This house was stolen in stages. One night it was intact; the next morning the roof had disappeared. In London at present such things are not, it seems, at all out of the way. The next morning much of the upper story had disappeared. And so on. People remarked upon it as an uncommonly unlucky house – it was so regularly hit. But by the time the ground floor was vanishing the thing had begun to excite speculation. There was so remarkably little rubble. Then one night the basement went, and there was nothing but a hole. Inquiries were made and there emerged the indisputable fact that the house had been stolen. It appears that during air raids there is a good deal of noise and confusion. Buildings are falling and lorries are hurrying about and what are called demolition squads are at work. The opportunities for stealing a house are quite unusual. But it must be expensive. The theft of Daffodil becomes a small thing in comparison.’
‘Daffodil,’ said Lady Caroline, ‘is a horse .’
‘No doubt. But a queer horse. And Lucy Rideout is a queer girl. And this house of which I have been telling you is a queer house. And all of them have been stolen within a few days of each other.’ Miss Appleby put the cuttings away and shut her bag. ‘I am glad to think, John, that you have the matter in hand.’
‘Yes, aunt,’ said Appleby.
Part Two
Whale Roads
1
The ocean was empty and unruffled; it was like the sky but emptier – for sometimes across the sky would pass a small high cloud. The ocean was always empty. Every twenty-four hours, and with startling abruptness, the ship
Miss Maidment wriggled on her seat – but not at all as if she were contriving to obey this injunction.
‘And consider yourself as having, at the same time, a conscience which forbids such indulgence. You are torn between conflicting forces. You are like the souls of the dead in the old stained-glass windows; the angels are tugging at your hair and the devils at your toes. You follow me, Maidment?’
Miss Maidment made an indecisive noise; it acknowledged the theological trend of her employer’s remarks by being faintly devotional in tone.
‘The strain is great, and you let go. You let yourself go in the middle; and where there was one Maidment there are now two.’ Lady Caroline frowned, apparently finding this a displeasing thought. ‘But of course you still have only one body . The two personalities share it, each taking sole possession for a time. In this way the licentious and the puritanical Maidment each gets her turn, and a certain degree of nervous conflict is thus eliminated. You see, Maidment?’
Miss Maidment again made a noise; then – unexpectedly – she contrived speech. ‘I don’t understand it at all. It sounds to me much more like being possessed by evil spirits.’
‘Lady Caroline’s description of the condition is excellent,’ said Miss Appleby. ‘But Miss Maidment too has made a significant observation. I have no doubt, John, that you will take account of it. Plainly, it has its place – as has another item on which you are certainly informed. I mean the Bloomsbury affair.’
‘Ah,’ said Appleby.
‘What the newspapers’ – Appleby’s aunt again consulted her cuttings – ‘have been calling the Mystery of the Absconding House.’
‘Miss Appleby,’ said Lady Caroline severely, ‘houses do not abscond. Dishonest servants abscond. You are confused.’
‘I do not think I am, dear Lady Caroline. This house has undoubtedly made off – and very possibly to Capri. Moreover, it is a haunted house. A most substantial eighteenth-century house in a Bloomsbury square. Dr Johnson once investigated a ghost there. And now it has been stolen.’
‘Houses may not be stolen, dear Miss Appleby. The proposition is absurd.’
‘In normal times it would no doubt be so. But at present it is quite feasible to steal a house. This house was stolen in stages. One night it was intact; the next morning the roof had disappeared. In London at present such things are not, it seems, at all out of the way. The next morning much of the upper story had disappeared. And so on. People remarked upon it as an uncommonly unlucky house – it was so regularly hit. But by the time the ground floor was vanishing the thing had begun to excite speculation. There was so remarkably little rubble. Then one night the basement went, and there was nothing but a hole. Inquiries were made and there emerged the indisputable fact that the house had been stolen. It appears that during air raids there is a good deal of noise and confusion. Buildings are falling and lorries are hurrying about and what are called demolition squads are at work. The opportunities for stealing a house are quite unusual. But it must be expensive. The theft of Daffodil becomes a small thing in comparison.’
‘Daffodil,’ said Lady Caroline, ‘is a horse .’
‘No doubt. But a queer horse. And Lucy Rideout is a queer girl. And this house of which I have been telling you is a queer house. And all of them have been stolen within a few days of each other.’ Miss Appleby put the cuttings away and shut her bag. ‘I am glad to think, John, that you have the matter in hand.’
‘Yes, aunt,’ said Appleby.
Part Two
Whale Roads
1
The ocean was empty and unruffled; it was like the sky but emptier – for sometimes across the sky would pass a small high cloud. The ocean was always empty. Every twenty-four hours, and with startling abruptness, the ship
Similar Books
