The Black Cabinet
““Good morning,” said Chloe; and instantly a high, worried voice called from somewhere inside the flat: “Mrs. Western, is that Mrs. Marsh? Tell her to be sure not to tilt my mirror like she did last time.”
Mrs. Western nodded the head with the neatly parted grey hair.
“We was expecting the charwoman,” she explained.
Chloe dived at the opening.
“Yes, I know. But she’s ill—she can’t come. I’ve come instead. I’ve got a note from her.”
Mrs. Western’s round, rosy face took on a subtle change of expression.
“Step inside,” she said. Then, taking the note, she left Chloe standing in the hall and disappeared through a half open door on the right.
Chloe heard voices; Mrs. Western’s and the high, worried one; snatches of words, “In the hall—I’d better see her—hope she won’t break things—so careless”; and on the last word Miss Hayman came out from what was evidently the dining-room.
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