In a small hotel it caused constraint if one did not
do so. This particular woman, he felt sure, had ex-cellent
"hotel manners," as he put it.
The English boy rose from his seat, made some
laughing remark and passed into the hotel. The
woman took her letters and bag and settled herself
in a chair facing the sea. She unfolded a copy of
the Continental Daily Mail. Her back was to Mr.
Parker Pyne.
As he dra0k the last drop of his coffee, Mr.
Parker Pyne glanced in her direction, and in-stantly
he stiffened. He was alarmed--alarmed for
the peaceful continuance of his holiday! That
back was horribly expressive. In his time he had
classified many such backs. Its rigidity--the
tenseness of its poise--without seeing her face he
knew well enough that the eyes were bright with
unshed tearsthat the woman was keeping herself
PROBLEM AT POLLENSA BAY
83
in hand by a rigid effort.
Moving warily, like a much-hunted animal, Mr.
Parker Pyne retreated into the hotel. Not half an
hour before he had been invited to sign his name
in the book lying on the desk. There it was--a neat
signature--C. Parker Pyne, London.
A few lines above Mr. Parker Pyne noticed the
entries: Mrs. R. Chester, Mr. Basil Chester--Holm
Park, Devon.
Seizing a pen, Mr. Parker Pyne wrote rapidly