Read Online Arrow Pointing Nowhere by Elizabeth Daly - Free Book Online Page B

Gamadge took Mrs. Fenway’s hand.
    â€œIt was good of you to let me come up and see you,” he said.
    â€œI beg and pray that you’ll come again!”
    â€œI shall.” Gamadge picked up his novel, and bowed to Mrs. Grove. Mrs. Grove bowed, Craddock bowed, Alden ducked his head. The three others accompanied the guest out of the room and to the top landing of the stairs.
    â€œI’ll take you down,” said Mott. “We spare old Phillips.”
    â€œFor if we wear him out,” smiled Caroline, “where shall we find his like again?”
    â€œRuthless child!” Mott benevolently surveyed her as she stood with her arm through her father’s. “She will have no cant in the house. Very uncomfortable for the rest of us, who employ ever so much of it.”
    Fenway protested: “I only hope that Mr. Gamadge understands your peculiar sense of humor, and Caroline’s.”
    â€œOh, I’m sure he does,” murmured Caroline.
    Gamadge said that there was room in the world at present for an essay on pure candor by Miss Fenway.
    Caroline laughed. “I’m sure there isn’t. There never was room anywhere for any of my writing, Mr. Gamadge. I’ve done all of it I’m ever going to do. I stopped that sort of nonsense a long time ago.”
    â€œPerhaps you stopped too soon.”
    â€œAt least I had high hopes once. What was I going to do, Father? Do you remember? Found a salon, or a magazine?”
    â€œMy dear, I could never understand why the editors wouldn’t have your work.”
    â€œAfter you finished censoring it, darling, it never had a chance.”
    Those two understood each other; they bade Gamadge farewell, standing arm in arm and smiling, as he went down the stairs with Mott Fenway.
    â€œI could find my own hat and coat, sir, you know,” said Gamadge.
    â€œA little deception; I wanted a private word with you.” Mott glanced over his shoulder, keenly enough for all his joking manner. “Have you a quarter of an hour?”
    â€œCertainly.”
    â€œSo private that I don’t want the rest of them to know I’m having it. Shall we go to the library? They’ll all be upstairs now until teatime.”
    â€œI have some books to pick up there.” But as they reached the lower hall, and Mott turned towards the darkening end of it, Gamadge paused: “Forgive the suggestion; if they’re to think I’ve gone, wouldn’t it be strategy on our part to slam the front door?”
    Mott, hands in the pockets of his loose old lounge coat, also stopped. He looked amused. “I’m a child in the hands of the expert. Slam it, by all means.”
    Gamadge did so. Then he said: “Now perhaps I’d better have my hat and coat. Then, if somebody should drop in on us, I could say that I’d forgotten something, and you’d let me in again.”
    Mott was highly entertained. “I see that I’ve come to the right shop; presence of mind and subterfuge are what I want, and I think I may be going to find them in you, as well as the intellect I’m already sure of.” He opened the door under the stairs, and Gamadge found his possessions among a closetful of outer garments; then they went on down the hall and into the library. Gamadge dropped coat, hat and novel on top of the wrapped parcel of books that he had left on the long table, and turned to face the other. “Well, sir, what can I do for you?”
    â€œIt’s this matter of the lost view of Fenbrook, Mr. Gamadge. A curious riddle. Let’s tackle it sitting down.”
    â€œWell, sir—” Gamadge looked at the wide doorway through which they had entered, walked to it, and stationed himself, with a smile, against the left-hand jamb. He spoke amiably: “You sit down. I’ll keep a lookout.”
    â€œUpon my word!”
    â€œYou care to run the risk of being overheard?”
    â€œWe shouldn’t be