Tom Tiddler's Island, стр. 51
“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Colin placably. “In fact, it’s a good notion. We can stand it for a couple of days.”
“Whether we stand it or not,” Jean said, getting up from her chair, “I’ve got to get the hang of the range or stove or whatever it is they keep in the kitchen premises. I’ll go and ask Mrs. Dinnet to show it to me now and give me tips. We’ll need hot water, no matter what we live on. And you’d better see Dinnet and ask about the electric light plant.”
“I’ve a notion it’s a motor-dynamo charging batteries,” Colin answered. “In which case it might run for a day or so without any meddling. However, best to be on the safe side. I’ll see Dinnet about it.”
CHAPTER XIII
NIPASGAL
“MUST you fidget so, Colin?”
Jean’s voice betrayed a touch of irritation quite foreign to her usual temper. Gales made her nervous; and all through the afternoon she had been listening to the bluster of squalls about Wester Voe, the swishing of the trees around the house, the intermittent rattle of the rain upon the streaming window-panes, and the periodic crash of the waves against the rocks of the shore. As she glanced up, she saw through the broad window a dull, leaden sky, across which clouds scurried in tumbled masses before the wind. With a slight shiver of mental unease she snuggled into the depths of her big armchair, before the fire which they had kindled for the sake of cheerfulness. At her movement, Hazel’s dog Peter, stretched out on the hearthrug, opened a sleepy eye, gazed up at his mistress, and then dozed off again, with his muzzle between his paws.
Leaving the window with its dreary seascape, Colin turned back towards the two girls by the hearth. Hazel, leaning forward with her chin propped on her hands, seemed to have dropped into day-dreams as she sat. From her expression, Colin could guess that her reverie was a pleasant one.
She had come over just after lunch, before the gale got up, and Jean had insisted on detaining her, since there was nothing to amuse her at Heather Lodge. Northfleet, uninvited by chance, had not put in an appearance; and the trio had been forced to fill in time as best they could. It was one of those days which bring with them a feeling of petulant boredom; but they had done the best that they could to ward it off. Jean had resolutely refused to set foot outside the house in such weather. They had played cut-throat bridge without enthusiasm, and then turned to snooker in the billiard-room, until this palled in its turn. The girls had shared the work of preparing tea and dinner, and had thus made a break in the monotony; but Colin, left to his own devices, had found time hang heavier and heavier on his hands as the day dragged on. As host, he felt it his duty to try to “make things go,” even under these unpromising conditions.
“Feeling a bit under the weather?” he asked, sitting down on the arm of Jean’s chair. “Spot of bridge? . . . No? Care to have a shake or two at poker dice, Hazel? There’s a set on the premises, I noticed.”
Hazel lifted her head and declined with a nod which was tempered by a smile.
“No?” Colin persisted, undeterred. “Amuse you with a little sleight of hand—a few card-tricks by Signor Colino Trento?”
“No!!” said Jean vehemently.
“Something in that,” Colin admitted. “You’ve seen ’em all before. Novelty’s lacking in your case. Ah, well! Might dress up as Father Christmas, or a ghost, or something, and give you a treat? . . . No? Well, I’m not proud or highbrowish. If Old Maid’s your fancy, I’m game. Or Consequences. Or Heads, Bodies, and Legs. . . . No? A bit discouraging, this reception. I tell you what’s wrong with us all. No fresh air. A bit of a stroll to blow the cobwebs off? Those in favour will say ‘Aye’ in a loud clear voice.”
“I’ll join you, if you like,” Hazel agreed, though with no marked enthusiasm. “You can drop me at Heather Lodge.”
“Nonsense,” Jean protested. “You’ve nothing to do at Heather Lodge and the evening’s young yet. Let Colin go out and get wet if he wants to, Hazel. He’ll come back refreshed and buck us up with all the gossip of the neighbourhood. Don’t you go.”
Hazel leaned back in her chair.
“To be honest, I’m not keen about going to Heather Lodge just yet,” she admitted. “If you’ll put up with me, Jean, I’ll stay on for a while. I’m enjoying myself, no matter how L look, really.”
“Then that’s that, Colin. You’re not going to lure Hazel out into that storm until she has to go. By the way, why not stay the night here? It’s beastly weather and you’re not needed over there.”
“No, that’s a bit too much,” Hazel decided. “It’s awfully good of you, but it’s no distance to go, and it would be silly to put you to trouble, since the Dinnets are away.”
Jean turned to Colin.
“That’s settled, then. Off you go, Colin. Don’t take too long about it, though. Go up to the Heather Lodge headland and bring back the weather report. And, Colin, just switch on these lights as you go out, please. This kind of half-light gives me the creeps, with that storm on the windows.”
Colin rose from the arm of the chair, drew the