Free Surfeit of Lampreys by Ngaio Marsh

Henry hurriedly placed a glass at his elbow.
    â€œAunt Violet,” asked Mike suddenly, “can you do the rope trick? I bet you can’t. I bet you can’t do that and I bet you can’t saw a lady in half.”
    â€œDon’t be an idiot, Mike,” said Patch.
    â€œMikey,” said his mother, “run and find Baskett, darling, and ask him to take care of Uncle Gabriel’s chauffeur. I suppose he’s there, isn’t he, Gabriel?”
    â€œHe’ll do very well in the car. Your aunt’s maid is there, too. Your aunt insists on cartin’ her about with us. I strongly object, of course, but that makes no difference. She’s a nasty type.”
    Lady Wutherwood laughed rather madly. Her husband turned on her. “You know what I mean, V.,” he said. “Tinkerton’s a bad lot. Put it bluntly, she’s damn well debauched my chauffeur. It’s been goin’ on under your nose for years.”
    Charlot evidently decided that it would be better not to have heard this embarrassing parenthesis. “Of course they must come up,” she said cheerfully. “Nanny will adore to see Tinkerton. Mikey, ask Baskett to bring Tinkerton and Giggle up to the Servants’ sitting-room and give them a drink of tea or something. Ask politely, won’t you?”
    â€œO.K.,” said Mike. He hopped on one foot and turned to look at Lady Wutherwood.
    â€œIsn’t it pretty funny?” he asked. “Your chauffeur’s called Giggle and there’s a man in the kitchen called Grumble. He’s a—”
    â€œMichael!” said Lord Charles. “Do as you’re told at once.”
    Mike went out, followed unostentatiously by Stephen who shut the door behind him. Stephen returned in a few moments.
    â€œI wish you’d tell me, Violet,” said Lady Katherine, “what it is you have taken up. One hears such extraordinary reports.”
    â€œShe’s dabblin’ in some damn-fool kind of occultism,” said Lord Wutherwood, turning pale with annoyance.
    Roberta noticed that when he stopped speaking his upper teeth closed firmly on his under lip, causing his whole mouth to settle down at the corners in an expression of maddening complacency.
    â€œGabriel,” said his wife, “believes in what he sees. Nothing else. He thinks himself fortunate in that. He is not so fortunate as he supposes.”
    â€œWhat the devil d’you mean?” demanded Lord Wutherwood. “Don’t look at me like that, V., I don’t like it. These friends of yours are makin’ a damned unpleasant woman of you. Of all the miserable footlin’ crew! What d’you think you’re doin’ huntin’ up a parcel of spooks? A lot of trickery. I’ve told you before, I’ve a damn good mind to speak to the police about the whole affair. If it wasn’t for draggin’ my name into it—”
    â€œYou had better be careful, Gabriel. It is not wise to sneer at the unseen.”
    â€œThe unseen what?” asked Lady Katherine who had caught this last phrase.
    â€œThe unseen forces.”
    Lord Wutherwood made exasperated sounds and turned his back.
    â€œWhat sort of forces?” persisted Lady Katherine against the combined mental opposition of the Lampreys.
    â€œDo you seek,” asked Lady Wutherwood with a formidable air of contempt, “to learn in a few words the wisdom of all the ages? A lifetime is too short to reach full understanding.”
    â€œOf what?”
    â€œEsoteric Lore.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    Charlot suddenly made a bold dash into this strange conversation, and Roberta with something like terror saw that she had decided on the line she would take with her sister-in-law. Evidently it was to be a line of gentle banter. Charlot leant towards Lady Wutherwood and said gaily: “I’m as bewildered as Aunty Kit, Violet. Is esoteric lore the same as—what? Witchcraft?