Cat Among the Pigeons by Agatha Christie

It wouldn't do, thought Briggs, to let the young fellow get above himself.
    “Mind you,” he went on, “you don't want to rush at things. Take it steady, that's what I say. Steady is what does it.”
    The young man understood that his performance had compared rather too favourably with Briggs's own tempo of work.
    “Now, along this here,” continued Briggs, “we'll put some nice asters out. She don't like asters - but I pay no attention. Females has their whims, but if you don't pay no attention, ten to one they never notice. Though I will say she is the noticing kind on the whole. You'd think she 'ad enough to bother her head about, running a place like this.”
    Adam understood that the “she” who figured so largely in Briggs's conversation referred to Miss Bulstrode.
    “And who was it I saw you talking to just now?” went on Briggs suspiciously, “when you went along to the potting shed for them bamboos?”
    “Oh, that was just one of the young ladies,” said Adam.
    “Ah. One of them two Eye-ties, wasn't it? Now you be very careful, my boy. Don't you get mixed up with no Eye-ties. I know what I'm talkin' about. I knew Eye-ties, I did, in the first war and if I'd known then what I know now I'd have been more careful. See?”
    “Wasn't no harm in it,” said Adam, putting on a sulky manner. “Just passed the time of day with me, she did, and asked the names of one or two things.”
    “Ah,” said Briggs, “but you be careful. It's not your place to talk to any of the young ladies. She wouldn't like it.”
    “I wasn't doing no harm and I didn't say anything I shouldn't.”
    “I don't say you did, boy. But I say a lot o' young females penned up together here with not so much as a drawing master to take their mind off things - well, you'd better be careful. That's all. Ah, here comes the Old Bitch now. Wanting something difficult, I'll be bound.”
    Miss Bulstrode was approaching with a rapid step.
    “Good morning, Briggs,” she said. “Good morning - er -”
    “Adam, miss.”
    “Ah yes, Adam. Well, you seem to have got that piece dug very satisfactorily. The wire netting's coming down by the far tennis court, Briggs. You'd better attend to that.”
    “All right, ma'am, all right. It'll be seen to.”
    “What are you putting in front here?”
    “Well, ma'am, I had thought -”
    “Not asters,” said Miss Bulstrode, without giving him time to finish. “Pom-pom dahlias,” she departed briskly.
    “Coming along - giving orders,” said Briggs. “Not that she isn't a sharp one. She soon notices if you haven't done work properly. And remember what I've said and be careful, boy. About Eye-ties and the others.”
    “If she's any fault to find with me, I'll soon know what I can do,” said Adam sulkily. “Plenty o' jobs going.”
    “Ah. That's like you young men all over nowadays. Won't take a word from anybody. All I say is, mind your step.”
    Adam continued to look sulky, but bent to his work once more.
    Miss Bulstrode walked back along the path toward the school. She was frowning a little.
    Miss Vansittart was coming in the opposite direction.
    “What a hot afternoon,” said Miss Vansittart.
    “Yes, it's very sultry and oppressive.” Again Miss Bulstrode frowned. “Have you noticed that young man - the young gardener?”
    “No, not particularly.”
    “He seems to me - well - an odd type,” said Miss Bulstrode thoughtfully. “Not the usual kind around here.”
    “Perhaps he's just come down from Oxford and wants to make a little money.”
    “He's good-looking. The girls notice him.”
    “The usual problem.”
    Miss Bulstrode smiled. “To combine freedom for the girls and strict supervision - is that what you mean, Eleanor?”
    “Yes.”
    “We manage,” said Miss Bulstrode.
    “Yes, indeed. You've never had a scandal at Meadowbank, have you?”
    “We've come near it once or twice,” said Miss Bulstrode. She laughed. “Never a dull moment in running a school.” She went on, “Do