"But I'm always ready. Everything is always ready day and
night in this house just on the off-chance that an acceptable
young gentleman will come along. And it is such a pleasure,
my dear, such a very great pleasure when now and again I open
the door and I see someone standing there who is just exactly
right." She was halfway up the stairs, and she paused with one
hand on the stair-rail, turning her head and smiling down at
him with pale lips. "Like you," she added, and her blue eyes
travelled slowly all the way down the length of Billy's body,
to his feet, and then up again.
On the second-floor landing she said to him, "This floor is
mine."
They climbed up another flight. "And this one is all yours,"
she said. "Here's your room. I do hope you'll like it." She
took him into a small but charming front bedroom, switching
on the light as she went in.
"The morning sun comes right in the window, Mr. Perkins. It
is Mr. Perkins, isn't it?"
"No," he said. "It's Weaver."
"Mr. Weaver. How nice. I've put a water-bottle between the
sheets to air them out, Mr. Weaver. It's such a comfort to
have a hot water-bottle in a strange bed with clean sheets,
don't you agree? And you may light the gas fire at any time
if you feel chilly."
"Thank you," Billy said. "Thank you ever so much." He noticed
that the bedspread had been taken off the bed, and that the
bedclothes had been neatly turned back on one side, all ready
for someone to get in.