Дом с привидениями. Уровень 2 / A Haunted House

Then it settled on her neck.

The Times was no protection against her sorrow. The best thing was to fold the paper. It made a perfect square, crisp, thick, impervious even to life. I glanced up quickly. She pierced through my shield. She gazed into my eyes. Her twitch denied all hope. Her twitch discounted all illusion.

So we rattled through Surrey and across the border into Sussex. The other travellers left. Apart from us, only one of them stayed. Soon we were alone together. Here was Three Bridges station.

We drew slowly down the platform. We stopped.

Was he going to leave us? At that instant he roused himself. He crumpled his paper contemptuously. He burst open the door, and left us alone.

The unhappy woman addressed me, palely and colourlessly. She talked of stations and holidays. She talked of brothers at Eastbourne, and the time of year. It was, I forget now, early or late. But at last she breathed,

“To leave home—that’s the worst thing.”

Ah, now we approached the catastrophe,

“My sister-in-law,” the bitterness of her tone was like lemon on cold steel, “nonsense, she likes to say—that’s what they all say.

”

While she spoke she fidgeted.

“Oh, that cow!” she said nervously.

Then she shuddered. Then she made the awkward movement. Then again she looked the most unhappy woman in the world.

“Sisters-in-law…” I began.

Her lips pursed. She took her glove. She rub hard at a spot on the window-pane. But the spot remained.

She sank back. Something impelled me to take my glove and rub my window. There, too, was a little speck on the glass. But it remained. And then the spasm went through me. I crooked my arm. Then I plucked at the middle of my back. My skin felt like the damp chicken’s skin in the poulterer’s shop-window. One spot between the shoulders itched and irritated. Can I reach it?

Surreptitiously I tried. She saw me. A smile of infinite irony. Infinite sorrow, flitted and faded from her face.

She shared her secret, passed her poison. She will speak no more. I read her message. I deciphered her secret.

Hilda is the sister-in-law. Hilda? Hilda? Hilda Marsh. Hilda stands at the door, Hilda holds a coin.

“Poor Minnie, so thin, this old cloak! Well, well, with two children. No, Minnie, I’ve got it. Here you are, cabby. Come in, Minnie. Oh, I can carry you. Give me your basket!”

So they go into the dining-room.

“Aunt Minnie, children.