the present moment it is pouring anchors and marlinespikes--where’s Hughie?"
Pamela was just going to say where she thought Hughie was, but changed the information to a vague: "Oh--somewhere.  You’re not going to fetch the yawl back today then, Crow?"
Christobel said the tide would serve much better in the afternoon a bit later.  It could be done now, but they would have to be home by five o’clock, or they’d have the whole weight of the ebb against them.
"Better to have an hour or so to spare," she added cheerfully and went out.
Pamela remained sitting in her nest, swinging her feet and thinking--thinking. "Then there was something in Mollie’s and Hughie’s accusation."  She had come away yesterday from her venture at Woodrising persuaded that the whole thing was "tosh"--that Sir Marmaduke had kindly given a lift to Mrs. Chipman for old time’s sake--being in the neighborhood himself, perhaps for business reasons.  It was so natural that Mrs. Chipman should pay a visit to Mrs. Trewby, for they were acquaintances of old days.
Last night, before she fell asleep, she felt assured that both Mollie and Hughie had made a mistake somehow--unlikely as it seemed.  Now, the whole thing was awake again, and positively demanding attention.  Poor Pamela felt the least bit gloomy about it; first, because she had read somewhere that if a person has a "double" in the world they are sure to die promptly; secondly, because she was becoming a butt for false accusations on all sides.  She felt instinctively that Crow, her best friend, was a little suspicious, and Addie, of course, would be frankly skeptical.  Only Hughie believed her.  Hughie was a very wise person, not to be despised as a partner in difficulty.
She slipped to her feet, and left the room, ran upstairs, and stood quietly listening at the top of the back stairs.  No one was about.  The voice of Mrs. Jeep conversing profoundly with Keziah, the house parlor-maid, was the only sound audible.  The wide front stairs mounted from the hall into the long corridor, and were not used by servants. The backstairs came up from the kitchen passage to a lobby shut off by a green baize door, and went on upwards to the attics, which were large and charming rooms, with many cupboards, and the most perfect views in the house, out of quaint dormer windows.
There were four at least and wide passage space also.
Mrs. Jeep owned one; Keziah and Patty Ingles the between-maid shared another.  One was a spare room for chance servant visitors, and the end one over Pamela’s and Hughie’s rooms was what is called a "box" room. Here was "luggage"--big, old-fashioned trunks, leather portmanteaus, large hat boxes.  Neat piles of cardboard boxes--the sort that drapers and dressmakers send out--all sizes, and tidy stacks of brown 

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