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〃You see； Con；〃 explained Josephine； 〃everything is so changed now。〃
Constantia looked up quickly。 〃I mean；〃 went on Josephine； 〃we're not
dependent on Kate as we were。〃 And she blushed faintly。 〃There's not
father to cook for。〃
〃That is perfectly true；〃 agreed Constantia。 〃Father certainly doesn't
want any cooking now； whatever else〃
Josephine broke in sharply； 〃You're not sleepy； are you； Con？〃
〃Sleepy； Jug？〃 Constantia was wide…eyed。
〃Well； concentrate more；〃 said Josephine sharply； and she returned to
the subject。 〃What it comes to is； if we did〃and this she barely breathed；
glancing at the door〃give Kate notice〃she raised her voice again〃we
could manage our own food。〃
〃Why not？〃 cried Constantia。 She couldn't help smiling。 The idea
was so exciting。 She clasped her hands。 〃What should we live on；
Jug？〃
〃Oh； eggs in various forms！〃 said Jug； lofty again。 〃And； besides；
there are all the cooked foods。〃
〃But I've always heard；〃 said Constantia； 〃they are considered so very
expensive。〃
〃Not if one buys them in moderation；〃 said Josephine。 But she tore
herself away from this fascinating bypath and dragged Constantia after
her。
〃What we've got to decide now； however； is whether we really do trust
Kate or not。〃
Constantia leaned back。 Her flat little laugh flew from her lips。
〃Isn't it curious； Jug；〃 said she； 〃that just on this one subject I've never
been able to quite make up my mind？〃
Chapter 3。XI。
She never had。 The whole difficulty was to prove anything。 How
did one prove things； how could one？ Suppose Kate had stood in front of
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her and deliberately made a face。 Mightn't she very well have been in
pain？ Wasn't it impossible； at any rate； to ask Kate if she was making a
face at her？ If Kate answered 〃No〃and； of course； she would say 〃No〃…
…what a position！ How undignified！ Then again Constantia suspected；
she was almost certain that Kate went to her chest of drawers when she
and Josephine were out； not to take things but to spy。 Many times she
had come back to find her amethyst cross in the most unlikely places；
under her lace ties or on top of her evening Bertha。 More than once she
had laid a trap for Kate。 She had arranged things in a special order and
then called Josephine to witness。
〃You see； Jug？〃
〃Quite； Con。〃
〃Now we shall be able to tell。〃
But； oh dear； when she did go to look； she was as far off from a proof
as ever！ If anything was displaced； it might so very well have happened
as she closed the drawer； a jolt might have done it so easily。
〃You come； Jug； and decide。 I really can't。 It's too difficult。〃
But after a pause and a long glare Josephine would sigh； 〃Now you've
put the doubt into my mind； Con； I'm sure I can't tell myself。〃
〃Well； we can't postpone it again；〃 said Josephine。 〃If we postpone it
this time〃
Chapter 3。XII。
But at that moment in the street below a barrel…organ struck up。
Josephine and Constantia sprang to their feet together。
〃Run； Con；〃 said Josephine。 〃Run quickly。 There's sixpence on the…
…〃
Then they remembered。 It didn't matter。 They would never have to
stop the organ…grinder again。 Never again would she and Constantia be
told to make that monkey take his noise somewhere else。 Never would
sound that loud； strange bellow when father thought they were not
hurrying enough。 The organ…grinder might play there all day and the
stick would not thump。
〃It never will thump again； It never will thump again；
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The Garden Party
played the barrel…organ。
What was Constantia thinking？ She had such a strange smile； she
looked different。 She couldn't be going to cry。
〃Jug； Jug；〃 said Constantia softly； pressing her hands together。 〃Do
you know what day it is？ It's Saturday。 It's a week to…day； a whole
week。〃
〃A week since father died； A week since father died；〃
cried the barrel…organ。 And Josephine； too； forgot to be practical and
sensible； she smiled faintly； strangely。 On the Indian carpet there fell a
square of sunlight； pale red； it came and went and cameand stayed；
deepeneduntil it shone almost golden。
〃The sun's out；〃 said Josephine； as though it really mattered。
A perfect fountain of bubbling notes shook from the barrel…organ；
round； bright notes； carelessly scattered。
Constantia lifted her big； cold hands as if to catch them； and then her
hands fell again。 She walked over to the mantelpiece to her favourite
Buddha。 And the stone and gilt image； whose smile always gave her
such a queer feeling； almost a pain and yet a pleasant pain； seemed to…day
to be more than smiling。 He knew something； he had a secret。 〃I know
something that you don't know；〃 said her Buddha。 Oh； what was it； what
could it be？ And yet she had always felt there was。。。something。
The sunlight pressed through the windows； thieved its way in； flashed
its light over the furniture and the photographs。 Josephine watched it。
When it came to mother's photograph； the enlargement over the piano； it
lingered as though puzzled to find so little remained of mother； except the
earrings shaped like tiny pagodas and a black feather boa。 Why did the
photographs of dead people always fade so？ wondered Josephine。 As
soon as a person was dead their photograph died too。 But； of course； this
one of mother was very old。 It was thirty…five years old。 Josephine
remembered standing on a chair and pointing out that feather boa to
Constantia and telling her that it was a snake that had killed their mother
in Ceylon。。。Would everything have been different if mother hadn't died？
She didn't see why。 Aunt Florence had lived with them until they had left
school； and they