The Lodger Read Online Free PDF Page A

It was a
replica of Mrs. Bunting's own room just underneath, excepting that
everything up here had cost just a little more, and was therefore
rather better in quality.
      The new lodger looked round him with such a strange
expression of content and peace stealing over his worn face. "A
haven of rest," he muttered; and then, "'He bringeth them to their
desired haven.' Beautiful words, Mrs. Bunting."
      "Yes, sir."
      Mrs. Bunting felt a little startled. It was the
first time anyone had quoted the Bible to her for many a long day.
But it seemed to set the seal, as it were, on Mr. Sleuth's
respectability.
      What a comfort it was, too, that she had to deal
with only one lodger, and that a gentleman, instead of with a
married couple! Very peculiar married couples had drifted in and
out of Mr. and Mrs. Bunting's lodgings, not only here, in London,
but at the seaside.
      How unlucky they had been, to be sure! Since they
had come to London not a single pair of lodgers had been even
moderately respectable and kindly. The last lot had belonged to
that horrible underworld of men and women who, having, as the phase
goes, seen better days, now only keep their heads above water with
the help of petty fraud.
      "I'll bring you up some hot water in a minute, sir,
and some clean towels," she said, going to the door.
      And then Mr. Sleuth turned quickly round. "Mrs.
Bunting " - and as he spoke he stammered a little - " I - I don't
want you to interpret the word attendance too liberally. You need
not run yourself off your feet for me. I'm accustomed to look after
myself."
      And, queerly, uncomfortably, she felt herself
dismissed - even a little snubbed. "All right, sir," she said.
"I'll only just let you know when I've your supper ready."

CHAPTER III
       B ut what was a
little snub compared with the intense relief and joy of going down
and telling Bunting of the great piece of good fortune which had
fallen their way?
      Staid Mrs. Bunting seemed to make but one leap down
the steep stairs. In the hall, however, she pulled herself
together, and tried to still her agitation. She had always disliked
and despised any show of emotion; she called such betrayal of
feeling "making a fuss."
      Opening the door of their sitting-room, she stood
for a moment looking at her husband's bent back, and she realised,
with a pang of pain, how the last few weeks had aged him.
      Bunting suddenly looked round, and, seeing his wife,
stood up. He put the paper he had been holding down on to the
table: "Well," he said, "well, who was it, then?"
      He felt rather ashamed of himself; it was he who
ought to have answered the door and done all that parleying of
which he had heard murmurs.
      And then in a moment his wife's hand shot out, and
the ten sovereigns fell in a little clinking heap on the table.
      "Look there!" she whispered, with an excited,
tearful quiver in her voice. "Look there, Bunting!"
      And Bunting did look there, but with a troubled,
frowning gaze.
      He was not quick-witted, but at once he jumped to
the conclusion that his wile had just had in a furniture dealer,
and that this ten pounds represented all their nice furniture
upstairs. If that were so, then it was the beginning of the end.
That furniture in the first-floor front had cost - Ellen had
reminded him of the fact bitterly only yesterday - seventeen pounds
nine shillings, and every single item had been a bargain. It was
too bad that she had only got ten pounds for it.
      Yet he hadn't the heart to reproach her.
      He did not speak as he looked across at her, and
meeting that troubled, rebuking glance, she guessed what it was
that he thought had happened.
      "We've a new lodger!" she cried. "And - and,
Bunting? He's quite the gentleman! He actually offered to pay four
weeks in advance, at two guineas a week."
      "No, never!"
      Bunting moved quickly round the table, and together
they stood there, fascinated by the little heap of gold. "But
there's