“THIS ONE IS SUNNIER, miss,” Dogger was saying. “If you don’t mind, we shall put you in here until your assigned bedroom has been made ready.”

We had been looking at bedrooms, and had arrived at last at Feely’s.

Since we didn’t get much sun at this time of year, I guessed that Dogger could only be thinking of former days.

“It will do admirably,” Phyllis Wyvern said, drifting to the window. “View of a little lake—check … a romantic ruin—check … glimpses of the wardrobe van. What more could a leading lady ask?”

“May I unpack?” Dogger asked.

“No, thank you. Bun will take care of it. She’ll be along directly.”

“It’s no trouble, I assure you,” Dogger said.

“Most kind of you, Dogger, but no—I must insist. Bun is very possessive. She’d swear like blue lightning if she thought anyone else had laid hands on my belongings.”

“I understand,” Dogger said. “Will there be anything else? May I ask Mrs. Mullet to bring you a pot of tea?”

“Dogger, you are a treasure beyond rubies. I’d love nothing better. I’m going to slip into something more comfy and immerse myself in Val’s abominable script. It’s as much as your life is worth if one isn’t word perfect by the time the lights are set up.”

“Thank you, miss,” Dogger said, and was gone.

“Funny old stick,” she said. “He’s been with you forever, of course?”

“Father and Dogger were in the army together,” I said, bristling slightly.

“Ah, yes, companions-in-arms. Quite common nowadays, I understand. Tit for tat. You save my life now and I’ll save yours later. Perhaps you saw me in The Trench in the Drawing Room? Much the same plot.”

I shook my head.

At that instant the door flew open and Feely came rushing in.

“What in hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted. “I told you before what would happen if I caught you in my room again.”

She had not noticed Phyllis Wyvern standing at the window.