Now will you show me his room ?' But Mrs.Gibbs did not move.

She stood staring at Phoebe, irresolute--thinking, no doubt, of the penny novelettes on which she fed her leisure moments--till Phoebe impatiently drew a letter from her pocket.
'I see you doubt what I say.

Of course it is quite right that you should be careful about admitting anybody to my husband's rooms in his absence.

But here is the last letter I received from him a week or two ago.' And, drawing it from its envelope, Phoebe showed first the signature, 'John Fenwick,' and then pointed to the address on the envelope--'Mrs.
John Fenwick, Green Nab Cottage, Great Langdale.' 'Well, I never!' said Mrs.Gibbs, staring still more widely, and slowly retreating--'and he never lettin' me post a letter since he came here--not once--no confidence nowhere--and I'm sure I have been his good friend!' Phoebe moved towards the staircase.
'Is Mr.Fenwick's room on the first floor or the second ?' Lost in protesting wonder, Mrs.Gibbs wheezily mounted the stairs far enough to point to the door of Fenwick's room.
'Here's matches'-- she fumbled in her apron-pocket.

'There's a candle on the mantelpiece.