After dithering about like this in the cold for two or three minutes,
Billy decided that he would walk on and take a look at The Bell and
Dragon before making up his mind. He turned to go.
And now a queer thing happened to him. He was in the act of stepping
back and turning away from the window when all at once his eye was
caught and held in the most peculiar manner by the small notice that
was there. BED AND BREAKFAST, it said. BED AND BREAKFAST, BED AND
BREAKFAST, BED AND BREAKFAST. Each word was like a large black eye
staring at him through the glass, holding him, compelling him,
forcing him to stay where he was and not to walk away from that house,
and the next thing he knew, he was actually moving across from the
window to the front door of the house, climbing the steps that led
up to it, and reaching for the bell.
He pressed the bell. Far away in a back room he heard it ringing, and
then at once--it must have been at once because he hadn't even had time
to take his finger from the bell-button--the door swung open and a
woman was standing there.
Normally you ring the bell and you have at least a half-minute's wait
before the door opens. But this dame was like a jack-in-the-box. He
pressed the bell--and out she popped! It made him jump.
She was about forty-five or fifty years old, and the moment she saw him,
she gave him a warm welcoming smile.
"Please come in," she said pleasantly. She stepped aside, holding the
door wide open, and Billy found himself automatically starting forward.
The compulsion or, more accurately, the desire to follow after her
into that house was extraordinarily strong.
"I saw the notice in the window," he said, holding himself back.
"Yes, I know."
"I was wondering about a room."
"It's all ready for you, my dear," she said. She had a round pink face
and very gentle blue eyes.