She preceded him along the hallway, and stopped to tap gently on a door beyond the grandfather clock. After a brief period of waiting the door opened, and the vinegary-looking woman put her head out.
“All right, Emily,” Mrs. Norris said, “I’ll look after her again now.” She turned to Gees. “You may come in, for a minute,” she added.
He waited for Emily— Mrs. Cosham, he guessed— to emerge, and then followed his conductress into the room. A claw-leg table, black with the polish generations of owners had applied, stood in the middle of the room, and on it, each on a woollen mat, stood three paraffin lamps, one of which was alight, although sunshine rayed in through the window. The rest of the furniture appeared as old as the table, and in a carved armchair beyond a Jacobean dresser that hel
