Albert Kinross

“ And before the old lady could interpose, Hester had flown out in quest of Carrie Hammon.
She found her feeding cats in the wash-house, which was practically an outbuilding attached to the kitchen, and entered by a further door and three stone steps. From the roof dangled four red-legged partridges, one plover, and a brace of rabbits.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you," remarked Hester, "but I'm not going to pay more than a third part of this bill."
Miss Hammon looked up in sheer ingenuous astonishment. If ever a woman seemed innocent, it was surely she. ”

“ Miss Carrie's narrow eyes were fixed upon Hester's.
"Well, somebody does go sleep-walking," Hester confessed. "I believe it's Mr. Taylor."
"So he's been at it again?" And Miss Carrie sucked at a hollow tooth. She put her forefinger to her lined forehead. "He's not quite right," she said; "you mustn't mind him."
"I don't," replied Hester. And then they breakfasted, and she set oat for Oxney Town. ”

“ Miss Carrie had delivered her bombshell and promptly disappeared, leaving the victim alone with Mrs. Hammon; and it looked as though the two women had arranged it thus, with a view to making matters harder for Hester. For how could a young person from nowhere accuse this dignified old party of being a cheat? ”

“ And the walls of the room were decorated with real farmhouse texts, all of a pious and exalted character, though rather depressing if met on a wet day.
Hester learnt that her hostess was a Miss Hammon, and that Carrie Hammon was her name in full.
Miss Hammon lingered by the door, and a cat came out of one of the two closets. "We've heaps of cats," said Miss Hammon; "you mustn't mind them."
"I like cats," replied Hester. ”

“ It was a little cry, almost like a signal, and the first cat had struck up just the same—hardly loud enough to wake a sound sleeper. But Hester was thoroughly awake. Unable to resist, and very curious, she returned once more to her post.
The second cat, a tabby, had brought back a rabbit. Again a basket was lowered. The cat jumped in, carrying its prey, and was duly hoisted up to the window where someone was waiting to draw it indoors and pet it.
"I'm sure it's Carrie Hammon!" now laughed Hester. "That accounts for the stew! She's trained those cats of hers to get her a living." ”

“ The deaf and dumb man's incursion she put down to the eccentricity of an individual who appeared to be half-witted. That could be the only explanation. She didn't feel at all frightened. This was a peculiar household, she concluded; and now, with the room all light and the day come, it made her smile.
She stayed to watch the sun rising over the Marsh before attempting further slumbers. As soon as she had breakfasted, she would tramp it to Oxney Town and bask in the sixteenth century.
Miss Carrie was downstairs before her. ”

“ She had gone some sixty odd miles out of London this time, with no luggage but her hand-bag. She did not quite know where she was going to sleep, nor did she care. Everything must be clean and simple and cheap; that was the one rule she obeyed. The rest she left to chance and her own good fortune. Usually she hit on some remote farmhouse where the woman was only too glad to have her. A new face was a new face, and eighteenpence for bed and breakfast was money found. And Hester gave no trouble, and was quite ready to help with the extra work she made. ”

“ SHE worked in a London office amid a maddening rattle of typewriters, and because she knew French and shorthand as well as the ways of her machine, her weekly wage was two pounds ten, which is high for a shorthand typist. Hester Ling was her name, and any ordinary day, if you stood on the kerb of Bedford Street and looked up to a first-floor window, there you might see her stooping over her machine, and, when she paused, as pretty a face as was ever immured within an office. This is a picture of Hester on week-days and at her work. ”

“ She took him as far as Oxney Town, and, arrived there, be had to sit quite still while she composed a letter for honest Mrs. Fukes of Cherry Corner.
"I'm sending you a permanent lodger," she wrote—"one who will pay and stay instead of a poor week-ender. He's deaf and dumb, and most people would take advantage of him; but I know you won't, so here he goes. He'll pay you a pound a week for everything. He's got more than that coming in quite regularly, only the people here take it away from him and cheat him. ”