11
The CouncillorMiss Aicheson was first into the room. She came striding across the black polished boards which were scattered with fine worn old rugs, and the ancient timbers shook beneath her while the dust motes in the shaft of London sunlight, streaming through diamond panes, danced wildly at her approach. She looked tired but triumphant and she turned to Alison for praise.
“Done it!” she announced. “Tim is on the stairs now. Councillor Cornish is with us, and by the way, dear, I think all the credit ought to go to him.”
“Oh splendid! Quite, quite wonderful, Aich.” Alison Kinnit’s emphasis was nearly generous but her glance wandered at once to the menu in her hand and she almost mentioned it, only thinking better just in time as the Councillor, with Eustace fussing behind him, appe
