夜雨聆风Yes, it is,” said Miss Bunner. “I really am having the most wonderfulbirthday.”
Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and had been ever since Col-onel Easterbrook had handed her a small box of sweets and declaimedwith a bow, “Sweets to the Sweet!”
Julia had turned her head away hurriedly, and had been frowned at byMiss Blacklock.
Full justice was done to the good things on the tea table and they rosefrom their seats after a round of crackers.
“I feel slightly sick,” said Julia. “It’s that cake. I remember I felt just thesame last time.”
“It’s worth it,” said Patrick.
“These foreigners certainly understand confectionery,” said Miss Hinch-cliffe. “What they can’t make is a plain boiled pudding.”
Everybody was respectfully silent, though it seemed to be hovering onPatrick’s lips to ask if anyone really wanted a plain boiled pudding.
“Got a new gardener?” asked Miss Hinchcliffe of Miss Blacklock as theyreturned to the drawing room.
“No, why?”
“Saw a man snooping round the henhouse. Quite a decent-looking Armytype.”
“Oh, that,” said Julia. “That’s our detective.”
Mrs. Easterbrook dropped her handbag.
“Detective?” she exclaimed. “But—but—why?”
“I don’t know,” said Julia. “He prowls about and keeps an eye on thehouse. He’s protecting Aunt Letty, I suppose.”
