affected an almost incredible stupidity with
regard to the instrument, and pretended not to be able either to speak
through it or to understand its cacklings. All that might very well be
assumed in order to divert suspicion, so Miss Mapp paused by the door to
let any of these delinquents get deep in conversation with her friend: a
soft and stealthy advance towards the room called the morning-room (a
small apartment opening out of the hall, and used chiefly for the
bestowal of hats and cloaks and umbrellas) would then enable her to
catch one of them red-mouthed, or at any rate to overhear fragments of
conversation which would supply equally direct evidence.
She had got no further than the garden-door into her house when Withers,
her parlourmaid, came out. Miss Mapp thereupon began to smile and hum a
tune. Then the smile widened and the tune stopped.
"Yes, Withers?" she said. "Were you looking for me?"
"Yes, Miss," said Withers. "Miss Poppit has just rung you up----"
Miss Mapp looked much surprised.
"And to think that the telephone should have rung without my hearing
it," she said. "I must be growing deaf, Withers, in my old age. What
does Miss Poppit want?"
"She hopes you will be able to go to tea this afternoon and play bridge.
She expects that a few friends may look in at a quarter to four."
A flood of lurid light poured into Miss Mapp's mind. To expect that a
few friends may look in was the orthodox way of announcing a regular
party to which she had not been asked, and Miss Mapp knew as if by a
special revelation that if she went, she would find that she made the
eighth to complete two tables of bridge. When the butler opened the
door, he would undoubtedly have in his hand a half sheet of paper on
which were written the names of the expected friends, and if the
caller's name was not on that list, he would tell her with brazen
impudence that neither Mrs. Poppit nor Miss Poppit were at home, while,
before the baffled visitor had turned her back, he would admit another
caller who duly appeared on his reference paper.... So then the Poppits
were giving a bridge-party to which she had only been bidden at the last
moment, clearly to take the place of some expected friend who had
developed influenza, lost an aunt or been obliged to go to London: here,
too, was the explanation of why (as she had overheard yesterday) Major
Flint and Captain Puffin were only intending to play one round of golf
to-day, and to come
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