"Most of the doors are open---"

Bianca murmured: "That doesn't tell us much."

"On the contrary," said Martin suddenly, in a deep bass voice, "it tells
you everything. Go on."

"The Hughs live on the top floor at No. 1. It's the best house in
the street. On the ground-floor are some people called Budgen; he's a
labourer, and she's lame. They've got one son. The Hughs have let off
the first-floor front-room to an old man named Creed---"

"Yes, I know," Cecilia muttered.

"He makes about one and tenpence a day by selling papers. The back-room
on that floor they let, of course, to your little model, Aunt B."

"She is not my model now."

There was a silence such as falls when no one knows how far the matter
mentioned is safe to, touch on. Thyme proceeded with her report.

"Her room's much the best in the house; it's airy, and it looks out over
someone's garden. I suppose she stays there because it's so cheap. The
Hughs' rooms are---" She stopped, wrinkling her straight nose.

"So that's the household," said Hilary. "Two married couples, one young
man, one young girl"--his eyes travelled from one to another of the two
married couples, the young man, and the young girl, collected in this