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 women do. When she had partially recovered from the shock she ran heavily to the door and locked it.

“It’s just me,” the niece said. “Say, Aunt Pat—”

Her aunt gasped: her breast and chins billowed unconfined. “Why don’t you knock? You should never enter a room like that. Doesn’t Henry ever—”

“Sure he does,” the niece interrupted, “all the time. Say, Aunt Pat, Pete thinks you ought to pay him for his hat. For stepping on it, you know.”

Her aunt stared at her. “What?”

“You stepped through Pete’s hat. He and Jenny think you ought to pay for it. Or offer to, anyway. I expect if you’d offer to, he wouldn’t take it.”

“Thinks I ought to p—” Mrs. Maurier’s voice faded into a shocked, soundless amazement.

“Yes, they think so I mentioned it because I promised them I would. You don’t have to unless you want to, you know.”

“Thinks I ought to p—” Again Mrs. Maurier’s voice failed her, and her amazement became a chaotic thing that filled her round face interestingly. Then it froze into something definite: a coldly determined displeasure, and she recovered her voice.

“I have lodged and fed these people for a week,” she said without humor. “I do not feel that I am called upon to clothe them also.”

“Well, I just mentioned it because I promised,” the niece repeated soothingly.

Mrs. Maurier, Jenny and the niece had disappeared, to Mr. Talliaferro’s mixed relief. They still had two left, however. They took turn about with them.

Major Ayers, Fairchild and the Semitic man rushed below