Mr. Zero Read Online Free

wasn’t Francis, who was it?”
    â€œThe Home Secretary man—at least, I think that’s what he is. He’s quite nice looking, but he’s got such an ugly name—Biffington—Buffington-Billington—one of those names, you know.”
    â€œI suppose you mean Mr. Lushington?”
    Sylvia brightened.
    â€œDarling, you’re so clever about names. Yes, Lushington. And his wife’s sister is married to Binks.”
    â€œBinks?”
    â€œBinks Wessex-Gardner—he is Buffo’s brother. They were all staying with the Wessex-Gardners, and so were we. Darling, they’ve got the most lovely place. And you never saw anything like her clothes—too too of course, but dreams . She had an evening dress all white and gold patent leather—”
    â€œWhat was this paper you stole?” said Gay.
    Sylvia winced.
    â€œOh, that’s a horrid word!”
    â€œIt’s a horrid thing. What paper was it?”
    Sylvia stared.
    â€œI haven’t the least idea.”
    â€œWhat did it look like? You must know that.”
    â€œOh, yes, he told me. He said it would be a sort of list on a piece of paper—what do they call that big sort of paper?”
    Gay’s eyes danced for a moment.
    â€œDo you mean foolscap?”
    â€œYes, that’s it! And there wasn’t any printing on it—just a lot of writing and a list of names—in one of those long envelopes. And he said I was to take the envelope just as it was, after I’d looked inside to see if it was the right one, and he said I was to put a plain envelope there instead.”
    Gay gave a horrified gasp.
    â€œSylvia!”
    â€œI did it very well,” said Sylvia with innocent pride.
    â€œYou put a plain envelope there instead?”
    Sylvia nodded.
    â€œYes, he told me to—he said to take one off Francis’ table, and he told me what size, and he said to put some paper inside it to make it look all right, and I did.”
    â€œSylvia—you said you had to look inside the envelope you took to make sure it was the right one?”
    â€œYes, and I did. I was ever so quick.”
    â€œWhat were you to look for?”
    Sylvia’s white brow wrinkled.
    â€œI keep forgetting the word—such a funny one—something to do with shoes—”
    Gay said sharply, “Nonsense, Sylly!”
    â€œOh, but it was—not English ones—those French wooden things—”
    â€œSabots?”
    Sylvia’s brow relaxed.
    â€œYes, that was it—that’s what I had to look for. He said it would be there, right on top, and it was—sabotage.”
    â€œWhat did you do with it?” said Gay in a tired voice.
    â€œI did exactly what he said. I didn’t make any mistakes. I put the envelope in my bag. And after dinner we were in the winter garden and they were playing cards, and what I was to do was to walk down the drive and keep close to the bushes on the left, so I did. I had a fur wrap of course, and when I got about half way down someone flashed a light on me and I stopped, and I said, ‘Who is it?’ like he told me to, so as to be quite sure of not making a mistake and giving it to the wrong person. And he said, ‘Mr. Zero,’ like he said he would, so then I gave him the envelope.”
    â€œDid you see him?”
    Sylvia shook her head.
    â€œOh, no—it was dark. Besides, he didn’t come out of the bushes. He just put out a hand and took the envelope. And then he gave me another with the money in it, and I ran back as fast as I could.”
    Gay still had the two pieces of newspaper in her left hand. She looked at them now, her mind quite dark, quite helpless. “Same time—same place—same money—” She read the words aloud.
    â€œWhat does it mean?” she said.
    â€œIt means he wants some more papers,” said Sylvia.

IV
    Gay went to the window, wrestled with it, opened it, and stuck her