She stretched luxuriously and wiggled her toes. How mad Jon would be when she told him what he had missed! She could tell him at breakfast. But on second thoughts why not tell him now? She slipped into a jersey and jeans and crept into the passage and down the little staircase. It was light enough now for her to see where she was going, and although she remembered the way down the big staircase to the lounge she realized that she had no idea of how to find Jon's room or her aunt's sitting-room either. She tried two more staircases, but wherever she went she was confronted by closed, silent doors, and somehow she had not the courage to start opening them and looking into rooms which ought to be empty but perhaps were not!

While she was still wondering what was the best thing to do she heard someone whistling softly downstairs, so she ran to the top of the big staircase and looked down into the lounge. Fred Vasson, in a green baize apron, was just plugging in a big electric cleaner and turned with a start when she called softly:

"Good morning, Mr. Vasson. How are you this morning?"

"Good morning, miss. You be up early on a wet morning. Maybe you couldn't sleep well in a strange bed?"

She sat on the edge of one of the big chairs and swung her legs, and it was while Fred was telling her how the sign of the Gay Dolphin outside had just been painted by an artist who lived farther up the street that she had her bright idea and realized how she might be able to wake Jon.

"I say, Mr. Vasson, do you think you could lend me a mac? Any old mac would do. You see, I haven't had time to unpack yet and I want to go out for a bit."

"But it's pouring down, miss! And it's early, too, and there won't be anything to see in this weather."

"Just any old mac would do, Mr. Vasson. Just to save me going upstairs again. I love rain. I've always loved the rain."

He looked doubtfully at her shoes and then went over to a cupboard under the stairs.

"Some gent must a' left this some time," he said as he produced a grubby-looking raincoat. "It'll be a bit on the roomy side for you, but it'll keep the rain out for a liddle," and he opened the door for her.

For a moment she stood in the shelter of the arch looking at the rain and then ran out into the street. Jon's window was just above her and, as she had hoped, the narrow pane which faced out to sea was open. She looked round for something to throw in, but the rain water was rushing down the gutters and there were big puddles over the cobblestones and not a pebble or handful of gravel anywhere.