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"
"
"
"
"
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 might suit
me."
Again that basilisk glance seemed to pierce her through.
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