Bishop’s guest house, and was met by her landlady as she stepped across the courtyard. “Had a nice day, Miss Dobbs? You look like you’ve caught a bit of sun again.” Mrs. Bishop smiled. “Care to join me in a glass of wine? I thought I would just sit out for five minutes and rest my legs, and then it crossed my mind that a little tipple wouldn’t go amiss.” Maisie hesitated for a few seconds. “I think that would be very nice indeed. Thank you, Mrs. Bishop.” The woman smiled, holding out her hand toward a round table with two chairs. “I shan’t be a moment. I just have to nip down to the cellar—the wine keeps cool there.” The chair Maisie settled into was old and rickety, and would have been quite uncomfortable without a cushion. A fresh cloth had been laid across the table, and Maisie wondered if Mrs. Bishop had been anticipating her arrival, waiting for her to set foot across the threshold so that she might waylay her with an invitation to enjoy a glass of wine together.
