The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

was reassured when they came inside when she suggested it; and sat down in the sitting room.
    “I’ve just remembered that some books came in the other day that must have been ordered for you, Philippine,” Fredericka said.
    “Yes? What are they, then?”
    “All about herbs and things, I think. I’ll go and see if you like.”
    “Oh no, don’t bother,” Philippine said. “I didn’t order them but it may have been Mrs. Sutton. She does most of the professional reading. Anyway, right now I don’t believe any of us want anything but our escapes.”
    “Quite right, too,” Dr. Scott agreed. “Well, you get your novel and I’ll take my westerns. This young lady ought to get some sleep.”
    Fredericka went to collect the books and when she returned the other two stood up at once.
    “Now one last word of advice, Miss Wing, if you’ll forgive me,” Dr. Scott said. “Take a warm bath, swallow one of my pink pills, and then straight to bed and not another thought before morning.”
    After they had gone, Fredericka took Dr. Scott’s advice but she did have a few thoughts before she drifted off to sleep. For some reason she hadn’t mentioned her afternoon’s encounter with Roger. She would have liked to have asked Dr. Scott and Philippine more about him, but some instinct had held her back. Perhaps it was just as well. Too many people already did too much talking in South Sutton, Mass.
    Chapter 7
    All Sunday night the thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning flashed along the horizon. In the morning Fredericka woke to find the air still heavy, and the storm clouds black in an angry sky. She dressed slowly feeling the weight of the day pressing against her temples. It might be Dr. Scott’s pill, it might be this sultry morning or it might just be herself, she thought, as she moved slowly about the house in an effort to plan the day’s work that faced her. Coffee would help, and coffee did help, but Fredericka did not have time to eat breakfast before the customers began to arrive. By eleven o’clock Christopher had not shown up for work and Fredericka felt as though she had been standing upright in a torture chamber all night long. Then, just as she thought that she could count on a free moment, the screen door banged again and the minister and his wife came in.
    After a perfunctory greeting, the Reverend Archibald and Mrs. Williams turned to study the shelves in an absorbed manner while Frederick hovered about. She knew that, like everyone else, they had come to ask questions. She watched their solid backs with resignation, and wondered if she dared to tell them that she hadn’t had breakfast, and ask if they would excuse her long enough to make fresh coffee and boil an egg. But just as she had summoned courage to make this suggestion, the minister turned around to ask if she had Bertrand Russell’s latest book. She had, but it was in the stable with the batch of books that Chris had brought up on Saturday. She should have unpacked them yesterday…
    “I’ll just have to run down to the stockroom and get it for you,” Fredericka said. “Or I can send it around later when Chris comes,” she suggested hopefully.
    “I’d rather like to see it here if you don’t mind,” Mr. Williams said. “That is, of course, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
    “No, of course, no trouble at all,” Fredericka answered over her shoulder as she hurried away. Best to get it over with and then perhaps they would ask their questions and go.
    She found the book without much difficulty but it was obvious that the stockroom needed attention. Would Chris never come? She returned to the Rev. and Mrs. Williams and when the minister had settled down in the comfortable chair in the living room, Mrs. Williams at once opened her barrage of questions. Fredericka felt faint. She had withstood the morning rush and now this avalanche had to fall on her. She did not dare to sit down for fear it would be taken as an invitation to stay. She leant heavily against the solid bookcase behind her.
    “The body was in dear Lucy’s hammock, you say?”
    Fredericka had not said, but she mumbled something that might be taken for “yes.”
    “Oh, dear Miss Wing, may I just take a tiny peek at it? We have a meeting of the Women’s Guild this afternoon and I’m sure they will want to know just how things were.”
    “I’m sorry, Mrs. Williams, but, you see the police have taken the hammock away.” Then seeing the unmistakable