CHAPTER 18The church clock struck again. It certainly sounded as if it was right overhead. Frank looked at his watch. A quarter to seven. Mr. Selby would doubtless be at the Holly Tree indulging in darts and the social glass. Mrs. Selby would, however, be at home.
He walked down the lane with Miss Silver. The house, when they arrived at it, could be discerned as a bungalow, and he could definitely smell the hens. There being no barking dog to announce their arrival, he used a knocker with a modern gimcrack feel about it. There was a pattering of footsteps and one of the casement windows on the right was pushed open a little way. A nervous voice said,
“Is there anyone there? Who is it?”
It was Miss Silver who answered.
“Mrs. Selby? May we come in? I think you may know me by sight. My na
