I thought to myself they were jealous, the pair of them--she, of this
sitting out in the shrubbery, and he, of her letting her hair down and
putting out the light.
As we came out of the kitchen, and were going across for a rest, there was
the Captain busy with Elisabet's carriage. He called me up and said:
"I ought not to ask you now, when you're having your rest, but I wish
you'd go down and mend the door of the summer-house for me."
"Right!" I said.
Now that door had been wrong ever since the engineer burst it open several
nights before. What made the Captain so anxious to have it put right just
at this moment? He'd have no use for the summerhouse while he was driving
Elisabet home. Was it because he wanted to shut the place up so no one
else should use it while he was away? It was a significant move, if so.
I took some tools and things and went down to the shrubbery.
And now I had my first look at the summer-house from inside. It was
comparatively new; it had not been there six years before.
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