Twenty-one
“N asty things, mushrooms,” said Mrs. Kidder.
Mrs. Kidder had made the same remark about ten times in the last few days. Lucy did not reply.
“Never touch ’em myself,” said Mrs. Kidder, “much too dangerous. It’s a merciful Providence¹ as there’s only beenone death. The whole lot might have gone, and you, too, miss. A wonderful escape, you’ve had.”
“It wasn’t the mushrooms,” said Lucy. “They were perfectly² all right.”
“Don’t you believe it,” said Mrs. Kidder. “Dangerous they are, mushrooms. One toadstool in among the lot andyou’ve had it.”
“Funny,” went on Mrs. Kidder, among the rattle³ of plates and dishes in the sink, “how things seem to come alltogether, as it were. My sister’s eldest⁴ had measles⁵ and our Ernie fell down and broke ’is arm, and my ’usband cameout all over with boils. All in the same week! You’d hardly believe it, would you? It’s been the same thing here,” wenton Mrs. Kidder, “first that nasty murder and now Mr. Alfred dead with mushroom-poisoning. Who’ll be the next, I’dlike to know?”
Lucy felt rather uncomfortably that she would like to know too.
“My husband, he doesn’t like me coming here now,” said Mrs. Kidder, “thinks it’s unlucky, but what I say is I’veknown Miss Crackenthorpe a long time now and she’s a nice lady and she depends on me. And I couldn’t leave poorMiss Eyelesbarrow, I said, not to do everything herself in the house. Pretty hard it is on you, miss, all these trays.”
Lucy was forced to agree that life did seem to consist very largely of trays at the moment. She was at the momentarranging trays to take to the various invalids⁶.
“As for them nurses, they never do a hand’s turn,” said Mrs. Kidder. “All they want is pots and pots of tea madestrong. And meals prepared. Wore out, that’s what I am.” She

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