"Come along, Gustave," cried Patricia in a voice that she still found it difficult to recognise as her own.
Gustave, still on his knees, looked round and up at her with the eyes of a dumb animal that knows it is about to be tortured.
"Gustave, get up and help with the tea," said Patricia.
A look of wonder crept into Gustave's eyes at the unaccustomed tone of Patricia's voice. Slowly he dragged himself up, as if testing the capacity of each knee to support the weight of his body.
"There's brandy there," said Mrs. Craske-Morton, pointing to a spirit-case she had brought down with her. "Here's the key."
Patricia took the key from her trembling hand, noting that her own was shaking violently.
"Mrs. Morton," she whispered, "you are splendid."
Mrs. Morton smiled wanly, and Patricia felt that in that moment she had got to know the woman beneath the boarding-house keeper.
"Shall we put it in their tea?" enquired Patricia, holding the decanter of brandy.
Mrs. Craske-Morton nodded.
"Now, Gustave!" cried Patricia, "make everybody drink tea."
Gustave looked at his own hands, and then down at his knees as if in doubt as to whether he possessed the power of making them obey his wishes.
Miss Wangle was still on her knees, the cook was
