 203  This seemed promising, so he made a note of the address and set off in search of the agency. He found it in a narrow street just off the main road. The woman at the desk gave him a bright smile as he entered and, after he had explained what sort of room he was looking for, gave him for the small fee of two pounds a list of about half a dozen landladies who had rooms to let. At the first house Peter tried, the landlady, who looked about seventy years old was so deaf that he had to shout to make her hear. When at last she understood, she shook her head and told him that she no longer let rooms. At the second house on the list all the rooms were taken. At the third the landlady was not at home. Peter was beginning to feel less hopeful, when he noticed that there was a telephone number after one of the addresses on the list. To save time, therefore, Peter rang up the landlady and enquired if she had a room to let. He was pleasantly relieved to hear that she had one vacant. He hurried round to the house, which stood well back from the road in a pleasant avenue. The room he was shown lay at the back of the house, overlooking a garden full of flowers and bushes. He noted, too, with satisfaction, that there was a large table in the room, where he could spread out his books and work in comfort. Furthermore, the rent was moderate. It was just what he was looking for. Without hesitation he told the landlady that he would take the room, paid a week's rent in advance and went back to the station to get his luggage. №25 It was dark in the attic, as Miss Manning had warned him. Weston found the small window in the roof and forced it open, thus letting in more light. He could just make out the boxes which Miss Manning had told him about. «When my father died,» Miss Manning had said, «his large library was sold up. His papers, and some other possessions of no great value, were stored in boxes and put up in the attic. They've been there ever since. I don't suppose the room has been opened for over ten years.» «What about his diaries?» asked Weston. «In one of his letters to a friend, Colonel Manning mentions that he kept a diary.» «I don't remember seeing any diaries,» said Miss Manning, with a puzzled look on her face. «Of course, he may have destroyed them before his last illness. Otherwise they must be in those boxes in the attic.» «I see,» murmured Weston. «In that case, will you allow me to examine those boxes? If I can find the diaries, I'll be able to write a much more complete account of your father's life.» 203 |
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