Passenger to Frankfurt Read Online Free PDF Page A

as cars, aren't they,' said Mrs Worrit. 'I mean you never know, do you, what's going to go wrong with them. Only it's more worrying, so to speak, being up in the air, isn't it? Can't just draw up to the kerb, not the same way, can you? I mean, there you are. I wouldn't go by one myself, not if it was ever so.' She went on, 'I've ordered a few things. I hope that's all right. Eggs, butter, coffee, tea -' She ran off the words with the loquacity of a Near Eastern guide showing a Pharaoh's palace. There,' said Mrs Worrit, pausing to take breath, 'I think that's all as you're likely to want. I've ordered the French mustard.'
    'Not Dijon, is it? They always try and give you Dijon.'
    'I don't know who he was, but it's Esther Dragon, the one you like, isn't it?'
    'Quite right,' said Sir Stafford, 'you're a wonder.'
    Mrs Worrit looked pleased. She retired into the kitchen again, as Sir Stafford Nye put his hand on his bedroom door handle preparatory to going into the bedroom.
    'All right to give your clothes to the gentleman who called for them, I suppose, sir? You hadn't said or left a note or anything like that.'
    'What clothes?' said Sir Stafford Nye, pausing.
    'Two suits, it was, the gentleman said as called for them. Twiss and Bonywork it was, think that's the same name as called before. We'd had a bit of a dispute with the White Swan Laundry if I remember rightly.'
    'Two suits?' said Sir Stanford Nye. 'Which suits?'
    'Well, there was the one you travelled home in, sir. I made out that would be one of them. I wasn't quite so sure about the other, but there was the blue pinstripe that you didn't leave no orders about when you went away. It could do with cleaning, and there was a repair wanted doing at the right-hand cuff, but I didn't like to take it on myself while you were away. I never likes to do that,' said Mrs Worrit with an air of palpable virtue.
    'So that chap, whoever he was, took those suits away?'
    'I hope I didn't do wrong, sir.' Mrs Worrit became worried.
    'I don't mind the blue pinstripe. I daresay it's all for the best. The suit I came home in, well -'
    'It's a bit thin, that suit, sir, for this time of year, you know, sir. All right for those parts as you've been in where it's hot. And it could do with a clean. He said as you'd rung up about them. That's what the gentleman said as called for them.'
    'Did he go into my room and pick them out himself?'
    'Yes, sir. I thought that was best.'
    'Very interesting,' said Sir Stafford. 'Yes, very interesting.'
    He went into his bedroom and looked round it. It was neat and tidy. The bed was made, the hand of Mrs Worrit was apparent, his electric razor was on charge, the things on the dressing-table were neatly arranged.
    He went to the wardrobe and looked inside. He looked in the drawers of the tallboy that stood against the wall near the window. It was all quite tidy. It was tidier indeed than it should have been. He had done a little unpacking last night and what little he had done had been of a cursory nature. He had thrown underclothing and various odds and ends in the appropriate drawer but he had not arranged them neatly. He would have done that himself either today or tomorrow. He would not have expected Mrs Worrit to do it for him. He expected her merely to keep things as she found them. Then, when he came back from abroad, there would be a time for rearrangements and readjustments because of climate and other matters. So someone had looked round here, someone had taken out drawers, looked through them quickly, worriedly, had replaced things, partly because of his hurry, more tidily and neatly than he should have done. A quick careful job and he had gone away with two suits and a plausible explanation. One suit obviously worn by Sir Stafford when travelling and a suit of thin material which might have been one taken abroad and brought home. So why?
    'Because,' said Sir Stafford thoughtfully, to himself, 'because somebody was looking for something. But what? And who?