| There was an eerie silence inside the house，asthough something terrible had happened there．Helen Tempest，feeling the goose pimples riseon her arms，rubbed them vigorously with hernanos and st00cl hugging nerselt． The silence was broken by the two childrenwho suddenly rushed indoors from theirinspection of the garden．They were followedby their father．a broad smile on his face． ‘Like it?’he asked Helen．． ‘WreU there’S nothing actually wrong．．．’ Bringing up the rear of the procession，whichhad trooped in from the garden．the estateagent carefully closed the front door． ‘There’S nothing wrong with it at a11．MrsTempest．It’S in excellent condition．Theprevi’ous owners，the Beckets， wereprofessional people．’ While he was enumerating the manyaccomplishments，professional and personal，ofthe former owners，Helen continued to rub herhands up and down her arms puzzled anddisturbed about her reaction to a perfectlyordinary detached house some thirty years old。 It formed part of an estate built on top of ahill not far from the 5 Dorset village of TipHollow． |
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