THE man standing in front of the empty fireplace was short and stockily built with a long thin face and light brown hair already receding from his forehead. He was dressed in a pin-striped suit, a coloured shirt and a perfectly dreadful tie, and he was obviously pleased both with his appearance and his attire. When he spoke it was with a pomposity which was quite unsuited to his age and his appearance.
There were two other persons in the room, a young woman, elegantly dressed and faultlessly made up, her dark hair brushed into a carefully careless cloud around her good looks, who was lounging on a sofa, and another girl, considerably younger, sitting on a small chair by the window. Unlike her companion, she had carroty hair which was straight and pinned rather carelessly into a knot at the back of her neck. She had no looks to speak of and she was far too thin; only her eyes, when she glanced at the man, were beautiful: vividly blue, large and fringed with curling lashes several shades darker than her hair. She sat composedly, her hands clasped in the lap of her tweed skirt, and listened to the man as he talked.
âOf course I shall sell this place and the furniture. I may have to wait for my money but I have my flat and you, Barbara, have yours.â
âI havenât a flat,â observed the girl with the carroty hair in a matter-of-fact voice.
They both looked at her. âMy father was good enough to allow you to live here in comfort with him while he was alone, very generous of him considering that you are no relation â¦â
âMy mother married him.â
Her stepbrother waved that away with a podgy hand. âAnd since her death he gave you a homeâa very comfortable home tooâyou have lived at your ease, Deborah, and I consider that I owe you nothing.â
âYes, wellâI thought you might think that.â She added in a small calm voice, âYou and Barbara have never liked me.â
âWell, you have no need to wallow in self-pity,â said Barbara nastily. âYouâve had plenty of experience running a household, you get yourself a jobâa motherâs help or something. Anyway this is all very boring. Walter, Iâll leave it all to you; just let me have my share when youâve got rid of this place.â She got up gracefully and went to rearrange her hair in front of the old-fashioned mirror above the fireplace.
âVery well, it may take some time. I suppose Deborah can stay here and caretake until the house is sold.â He didnât ask her if she were willing but went on, âIâll see that you have money for food and so on.â
He joined his sister on the way to the door. âAnd donât think that you can throw my money around; I shall want accounts kept of every penny you spend.â
âThere wonât be any accounts,â said Deborah reasonably, âbecause I have no money; you took the chequebooks as soon as my stepfather died and probably any cash there was in the house as well.â
Walter went an unbecoming puce and gobbled. âDonât be impertinent, you know nothing about such things.â He took his wallet from a pocket and counted out some notes. âYou will need very little money; this should be sufficient for some weeks.â
He bustled Barbara out of the room and banged the door after him only to open it again. âAnd kindly remember that this house and its contents are now mine.â