. "Regular
old cat--always interfering. Accused me of tampering with her letters.
Me! The flap was half undone anyway. There's never anything in the
waste-paper basket--she burns everything. She's a wrong 'un, that's what
she is. Swell clothes, but no class. Cook knows something about her--but
she won't tell--scared to death of her. And suspicious! She's on to you
in a minute if you as much as speak to a fellow. I can tell you----"

But what more Annie could tell, Tuppence was never destined to learn,
for at that moment a clear voice with a peculiarly steely ring to it
called:

"Annie!"

The smart young woman jumped as if she had been shot.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Who are you talking to?"

"It's a young woman about the situation, ma'am."

"Show her in then. At once."

"Yes, ma'am."

Tuppence was ushered into a room on the right of the long passage. A
woman was standing by the fireplace. She was no longer in her first
youth, and the beauty she undeniably possessed was hardened and
coarsened. In her youth she must have been dazzling. Her pale gold hair,
owing a slight assistance to art, was coiled low on her neck, her eyes,
of a piercing electric blue, seemed to possess a faculty of boring into
the very soul of the person she was looking at. Her exquisite figure was
enhanced by a wonderful gown of indigo charmeuse. And yet, despite her
swaying grace, and the almost ethereal beauty of her face, you felt
instinctively the presence of something hard and menacing, a kind of
metallic strength that found expression in the tones of her voice and in
that gimlet-like quality of her eyes.

For the first time Tuppence felt afraid. She had not feared Whittington,
but this woman was different. As if fascinated, she watched the long
cruel line of the red curving mouth, and again she felt that sensation
of panic pass over her. Her usual self-confidence deserted her. Vaguely
she felt that deceiving this woman would be very different to deceiving
Whittington. Mr. Carter's warning recurred to her mind. Here, indeed,
she might expect no mercy.

Fighting down that instinct of panic which urged her to turn tail and
run without further delay, Tuppence returned the lady's gaze firmly and
respectfully.

As though that first scrutiny had been satisfactory, Mrs. Vandemeyer
motioned to a chair.

"You can sit down. How did you hear I wanted a house-parlourmaid?"

"Through a friend who knows the lift boy here. He thought the place
migh