and over it and through it. It had lain there no more than a few days. It was a witness. His mind went back to Anne as he had seen her just before she stepped into the plane and left him. She had about her neck a chain of little beads like this one. He put the bead away in his pocket.
As they came up the cellar steps Miss Silver did all the talking. She thanked the young man and said they would have to ask the lady for whom they were acting.
‘Oh, no, it is not for ourselves. We shall have to let my sister know, but I am afraid the house may be a little too large for her, and she did not really wish to take a furnished house.’
‘The furniture could be removed,’ said the young man with bright hopefulness.
‘Ah, well. I will let you know if she thinks that this will suit her, but I am very much afraid—’
When the young man had taken his departure they walked on to the far end of the road in silence. As they turned to come back Miss Silver spoke.
‘You recognise the bead?’
‘Yes.’
‘It was Anne’s?’
‘Yes.’
He walked beside her in silence until they came to the house again. Then he said, ‘The bead was from a necklace she wore. She wore it always. This means that the other Anne’s story is true—not just a dream or anything like that. She did see a girl’s dead body in that cellar. It doesn’t just rest on the bag any more. This bead is Russian. Anne was wearing a Russian necklace—don’t you see—don’t you see—’
Miss Silver said, ‘Yes, I see.’
CHAPTER 14
Anne woke up on the following morning with the curious feeling that she had known something in her sleep which had gone from her again. With the light of returning consciousness it had gone, but it had been there. She wondered where things went to when you forgot them. Perhaps it meant that her memory was not gone but was merely sleeping. Perhaps it would come again suddenly and she would remember all those things which she had forgotten.
When Thomasina came in with the tea she lifted a bright face to meet her. Thomasina shook her head.
‘There’s no cause for you to look as if there was a present for you on the tray,’ she said.
Anne laughed.
‘I feel as if there was, you know.’ She sat up, snuggling her knees. ‘Do you believe in presentiments, Thomasina? I’m not sure if I do or not. Tell me, do you ever wake up and feel as if all the bad things had happened and were passed away and done with?’
Thomasina looked at her in a pitying way.
‘I can’t say I do. And if I did I wouldn’t dwell on it, nor yet talk about it.’
‘Why wouldn’t you?’
Thomasina set down the tray.
‘Because I wouldn’t. And if you’ll take my advice you won’t do no such thing.’
Anne laughed again.
‘Why Thomasina—why?’
Thomasina stepped back. Her solid arms hugged one another. She stood and delivered herself.
‘Now just you listen to me, my dear. There’s times when you wake in the morning and everything looks black to you. No harm in taking a pinch of cheer-me-up those days—no harm at all. But when you wake up and everything’s going right and you feel like skipping out of bed and dancing whilst you put your clothes on, that’s the time to take a check on yourself and go easy. That’s all, my dear. And I’m a quarter of an hour late with the tea through Mattie having forgot to put the kettle on, so I’m all behind—and don’t you keep me talking or it’ll be the worse for all of us.’
Anne laughed again when the door was shut upon Thomasina. The laugh echoed in her head and left a little shiver behind it. She drank her tea and jumped up. The fatigue of the last few days was gone and she felt ready for anything.
She went downstairs, looked out at the day, found it brilliant and beautiful, and began to wonder what she should do with it.
There was sunshine on the lawn. The birches in the distance were golden, and nearer, the clumps of azaleas were crimson and flame-colour. As she stood looking
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