Free The Seven Dials Mystery by Agatha Christie

and—er—see the lady?”
    Stevens made no reply, but he held his back very stiff and Jimmy read the signs correctly.
    â€œOh! very well,” he said. “I suppose I’d better. She didn’t give her name?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œM’m. She couldn’t be by any possible chance my Aunt Jemima, could she? Because if so, I’m damned if I’m going to get up.”
    â€œThe lady, sir, could not possibly be anyone’s aunt, I should say, unless the youngest of a large family.”
    â€œAha,” said Jimmy. “Young and lovely. Is she—what kind is she?”
    â€œThe young lady, sir, is most undoubtedly strictly comme il faut, if I may use the expression.”
    â€œYou may use it,” said Jimmy graciously. “Your French pronunciation, Stevens, if I may say so, is very good. Much better than mine.”
    â€œI am gratified to hear it, sir. I have lately been taking a correspondence course in French.”
    â€œHave you really? You’re a wonderful chap, Stevens.”
    Stevens smiled in a superior fashion and left the room. Jimmy lay trying to recall the names of any young and lovely girls strictly comme il faut who might be likely to come and call upon him.
    Stevens reentered with fresh tea, and as Jimmy sipped it he felt a pleasurable curiosity.
    â€œYou’ve given her the paper and all that, I hope, Stevens,” he said.
    â€œI supplied her with the Morning Post and Punch, sir.”
    A ring at the bell took him away. In a few minutes he returned.
    â€œAnother young lady, sir.”
    â€œWhat?”
    Jimmy clutched his head.
    â€œAnother young lady; she declines to give her name, sir, but says her business is important.”
    Jimmy stared at him.
    â€œThis is damned odd, Stevens. Damned odd. Look here, what time did I come home last night?”
    â€œJust upon five o’clock, sir.”
    â€œAnd was I—er—how was I?”
    â€œJust a little cheerful, sir—nothing more. Inclined to sing ‘Rule Britannia.’ ”
    â€œWhat an extraordinary thing,” said Jimmy. “ ‘Rule Britannia,’ eh? I cannot imagine myself in a sober state ever singing ‘Rule Britannia.’ Some latent patriotism must have emerged under the stimulus of—er—just a couple too many. I was celebrating at the ‘Mustard and Cress,’ I remember. Not nearly such an innocent spot as it sounds, Stevens.” He paused. “I was wondering—”
    â€œYes, sir?”
    â€œI was wondering whether under the aforementioned stimulus I had put an advertisement in a newspaper asking for a nursery governess or something of that sort.”
    Stevens coughed.
    â€œ Two girls turning up. It looks odd. I shall eschew the ‘Mustard and Cress’ in future. That’s a good word, Stevens— eschew —I met it in a crossword the other day and took a fancy to it.”
    Whilst he was talking Jimmy was rapidly apparelling himself. At the end of ten minutes he was ready to face his unknown guests. As he opened the door of his sitting room the first person he saw was a dark, slim girl who was totally unknown to him. She was standing by the mantelpiece, leaning against it. Then his glance went on to the big leather-covered armchair, and his heart missed a beat. Loraine!
    It was she who rose and spoke first a little nervously.
    â€œYou must be very surprised to see me. But I had to come. I’ll explain in a minute. This is Lady Eileen Brent.”
    â€œBundle—that’s what I’m usually known as. You’ve probably heard of me from Bill Eversleigh.”
    â€œOh, rather, of course I have,” said Jimmy, endeavouring to cope with the situation. “I say, do sit down and let’s have a cocktail or something.”
    Both girls declined.
    â€œAs a matter of fact,” continued Jimmy, “I’m only just out of bed.”
    â€œThat’s what Bill