I Am Half-Sick Of Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page A

he were expecting a tip—or was he waiting to be asked in for a drink and a cigar?
    “You may go,” she announced rather abruptly and the spell was broken. In an instant he was no more than a member of the chorus in
The Chocolate Soldier
.
    “Yes, Miss Wyvern,” he said, and as he turned away from her towards the door, I saw on his face a look of—what was it?—contempt?

    THREE
     
    “ THIS ONE IS SUNNIER , miss,” Dogger was saying. “If you don’t mind, we shall put you in here until your assigned bedroom has been made ready.”
    We had been looking at bedrooms, and had arrived at last at Feely’s.
    Since we didn’t get much sun at this time of year, I guessed that Dogger could only be thinking of former days.
    “It will do admirably,” Phyllis Wyvern said, drifting to the window. “View of a little lake—check … a romantic ruin—check … glimpses of the wardrobe van. What more could a leading lady ask?”
    “May I unpack?” Dogger asked.
    “No, thank you. Bun will take care of it. She’ll be along directly.”
    “It’s no trouble, I assure you,” Dogger said.
    “Most kind of you, Dogger, but no—I must insist. Bun is very possessive. She’d swear like blue lightning if she thought anyone else had laid hands on my belongings.”
    “I understand,” Dogger said. “Will there be anything else? May I ask Mrs. Mullet to bring you a pot of tea?”
    “Dogger, you are a treasure beyond rubies. I’d love nothing better. I’m going to slip into something more comfy and immerse myself in Val’s abominable script. It’s as much as your life is worth if one isn’t word perfect by the time the lights are set up.”
    “Thank you, miss,” Dogger said, and was gone.
    “Funny old stick,” she said. “He’s been with you forever, of course?”
    “Father and Dogger were in the army together,” I said, bristling slightly.
    “Ah, yes, companions-in-arms. Quite common nowadays, I understand. Tit for tat. You save my life now and I’ll save yours later. Perhaps you saw me in
The Trench in the Drawing Room?
Much the same plot.”
    I shook my head.
    At that instant the door flew open and Feely came rushing in.
    “What in
hell
do you think you’re
doing
?” she shouted. “I told you before what would happen if I caught you in my room again.”
    She had not noticed Phyllis Wyvern standing at the window.
    She made a grab for me.
    “No!”
    Feely spun round to see who had spoken. Her raised hand fell to her side, where it hung limply.
    For a moment they stood there staring at each other, Feely as if she had been confronted by some ghastly specter, Phyllis Wyvern as she looked when she’d clung defiantly to the rain-lashed spire of the cathedral in the final moments of
The Glass Heart
.
    Then Feely’s lower lip began to quiver, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears.
    She turned and fled.
    “So,” said Phyllis Wyvern after a long silence, “you have an older sister, too.”
    “That was Feely,” I said. “She—”
    “No need to explain. Older sisters are much alike the world over: half a cup of love and half one of contempt.”
    I couldn’t have put it better myself!
    “My sister’s the same,” she said. “Six years older?”
    I nodded.
    “Mine, too. I see we have a great deal more in common than a taste for horrific murder, Flavia de Luce.”
    She came across the room and, putting a finger under my chin, raised my eyes to hers. And then she hugged me.
    She actually hugged me, and I breathed in her jasmine—synthetic or not.
    “Let’s go down to the kitchen for tea. It will save Mrs. Mullet a trip upstairs.”
    I beamed at her. I almost took her hand.
    “It will also,” she added, “give us a chance to pick up the latest gossip. Kitchens are hotbeds of scandal, you know.”
    “Ohhhhh!” Mrs. Mullet said as we walked into the kitchen. Aside from that, and gaping a bit, she handled it quite well.
    “We decided to come down to the Command Center,” Phyllis Wyvern said. “Is