Cat Among the Pigeons by Agatha Christie Page B

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?”
    â€œWasn’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.”
    â€œAh,” said Briggs, “but you be careful. It’s not your place to talk to any of the young ladies. She wouldn’t like it.”
    â€œI wasn’t doing no harm and I didn’t say anything I shouldn’t.”
    â€œI 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 minds 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—”
    â€œAdam, miss.”
    â€œAh 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.”
    â€œAll right, ma’am, all right. It’ll be seen to.”
    â€œWhat are you putting in front here?”
    â€œWell ma’am, I had thought—”
    â€œ Not asters,” said Miss Bulstrode, without giving him time to finish “Pom Pom dahlias,” and she departed briskly.
    â€œComing 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.”
    â€œIf she’s any fault to find with me, I’ll soon know what I can do,” said Adam sulkily. “Plenty o’ jobs going.”
    â€œAh. 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 towards the school. She was frowning a little.
    Miss Vansittart was coming in the opposite direction.
    â€œWhat a hot afternoon,” said Miss Vansittart.
    â€œYes, it’s very sultry and oppressive.” Again Miss Bulstrode frowned. “Have you noticed that young man—the young gardener?”
    â€œNo, not particularly.”
    â€œHe seems to me—well—an odd type,” said Miss Bulstrode thoughtfully. “Not the usual kind around here.”
    â€œPerhaps he’s just come down from Oxford and wants to make a little money.”
    â€œHe’s good-looking. The girls notice him.”
    â€œThe usual problem.”
    Miss Bulstrode smiled. “To combine freedom for the girls and strict supervision—is that what you mean, Eleanor?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWe manage,” said Miss Bulstrode.
    â€œYes, indeed. You’ve never had a scandal at Meadowbank, have you?”
    â€œWe’ve come near it once or twice,” said Miss Bulstrode. She laughed. “Never a dull moment in running a school.” She went on, “Do you ever find life dull here, Eleanor?”
    â€œNo indeed,” said Miss Vansittart. “I find the work here most stimulating and satisfying. You must feel very proud and happy, Honoria, at the great success you have achieved.”
    â€œI think I made a good job of things,” said Miss Bulstrode thoughtfully. “Nothing, of course, is ever quite as one first imagined it….
    â€œTell me, Eleanor,” she said suddenly, “if you were running this place instead of me, what changes would you make? Don’t mind saying. I shall be interested to hear.”
    â€œI don’t think I should want to make any