"Jacques smokes only those cheap Marylands that come in a blue packet,"
Esther replied, laughing. "You see I'm acquainted with all his habits.
No, I can't believe it is Jacques who's been here; it looks as
though…"
She stopped and, bending down, picked up a tiny object from the rug.
"There was a woman, at any rate," she mused, with a considerable degree of curiosity in her voice, "for here is a hairpin."
It was a little bronze one of the "invisible" sort. Utterly unable to comprehend any woman's being in this house, she turned the hairpin over wonderingly. Then she noticed that her companion was staring up at the ceiling with a frown on his face.
"S'sh," he cautioned, laving a hand on her arm. "I thought I heard…"
"Who the hell is that down there? Answer, or I'll shoot!"
They jumped guiltily, astonished at the sudden angry voice that thundered upon them from the upper regions of the house.
"Goodness!" whispered Esther, gazing at Roger with round eyes. "Who do you suppose——"
"I say, whose bloody business is it to prowl about down there? Here, show yourselves, damn you!"
It was a man's voice, at once sleepy and peevish.