“Have you finished?” said Mrs. Arbuthnot. “How kind of you.”
Matron’s eldest nephew said he was making a tidy job of it, but he couldn’t find his screwdriver and wondered if anyone had taken it.
“You had it this morning when you were on the floor in the corner,” said Miss Arbuthnot. “Perhaps it is there.”
Matron’s eldest nephew said he wasn’t a one to leave tools about. That, he said, was a job for the ladies. He then smiled to show that his remark was merely gallantry, but it was evident that he suspected them both. Mrs. Arbuthnot suggested that he might look in the corner, which he did in a sulky and perfunctory way, appearing rather gratified than otherwise that the screwdriver was not there. Footsteps were heard on the stair, there was a tap at the door, and Snow came in carrying hi
