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“Thatprovesit,”saidDaisy.“Andnothingsaidofany
kind?”
Georgie’sfacescreweditselfupintheeffort
toremember.
“Yes,therewassomething,”hesaid,“butIwas
talkingtoLucia,andtheothersweretalkingrather
low.ButIdidhearthelawyersaysomethingtoPepino
aboutpearls.Idorememberthewordpearls.Perhaps
itwastheoldlady’spearls.”
Mrs.Quantockgaveashortlaugh.
“Itcouldn’thavebeenPepino’s,”shesaid.“Hehas
oneinatie-pin.It’scalledpear-shaped,butthere’s
littleshapeaboutit.Whendowillscomeout?”
“Oh,ages,”saidGeorgie.“Months.Andthere’s
ahouseinLondon,Iknow.”
“Whereabouts?”askedDaisygreedily.
Georgie’sfaceassumedalookofintense
concentration.
“Icouldn’ttellyouforcertain,”hesaid,“butIknow
Pepinowentuptotownnotlongagotoseeaboutsome
repairstohisaunt’shouse,andIthinkitwastheroof.”
“Itdoesn’tmatterwheretherepairswere,”said
Daisyimpatiently.“Iwanttoknowwherethehouse
was.”
“Youinterruptme,”saidGeorgie.“Iwastellingyou.
IknowhewenttoHarrod’safterwardsandwalked
there,becauseheandLuciawerediningwithmeand
hesaidso.Sothehousemusthavebeenclose
toHarrod’s,quitecloseImean,becauseitwasraining,
andifithadbeenanyreasonabledistancehewould
havehadataxi.SoitmightbeKnightsbridge.”
Mrs.Quantockputonhergardening-glovesagain.
“Howfrightfullysecretivepeopleare,”shesaid.
“Fancyhisneverhavingtoldyouwherehisaunt’s
housewas.”
“Buttheyneverspokeofher,”saidGeorgie.“She’s
beeninthatnursing-homesomanyyears.”
“Youmaycallitanursing-home,”observedMrs.
Quantock,“or,ifyouchoose,youmaycallitapost
