Jim Silver was roused. He surged up alongside the girl in the night, and pinched her arm above the elbow.
"Now look here, little woman!" he said.
She released her arm.
"Not so loud," she ordered. "And don't creak so."
They walked delicately in the darkness, the light guiding them, till they came to the ragged hedge at the foot of a long strip of cottage garden.
The night was very warm, the blinds up, the windows wide.
Joses, in his shirt-sleeves, was busy within working at something.
The girl watched awhile through her glasses and then withdrew quietly.
"He's whittling at wooden pegs," she whispered, keen as a knife.
"Obviously."