Mr. Earlforward, having lighted the office, limped through the gloom of the unlit shop to the entrance-door.
"Tut, tut!" His tongue clicked against the back of his teeth. "She's left this door unlocked. She knew perfectly well she ought to have taken the key with her. Leaving the door unfastened like that! One of these nights we shall be let in for it." He locked the door sharply.
"Oh, Henry!" Violet laughed easily; but a minute later she exclaimed again, with the faintest trace of apprehension in her voice: "I wonder what has happened to that girl?"
Husband and wife could "settle to nothing" until Elsie came back. The marvel of Henry sending for a paper at all returned upon Violet, and she began to imagine that he had some very special purpose in doing so. She felt the first subtle encroachments of the fear without a name.
"Well!" she burst out later, and went to the door and opened it, and looked forth into King's Cross Road. No Elsie. She came in again and secured the door, and entered the office humming. Henry stood with his back to the fine fire, luxuriating grandly in its heat and in his own splendid extravagance. His glance at Violet seemed to say:
"See how I prove that I can refuse you nothing! See what follies I will perpetrate to please you!"
Then the shop-door shook, and the next instant there was a respectful tap-tap on it. Violet ran like a girl.
"Elsie, you know perfectly well you ought to have taken the key with you."
Elsie apologized. She was out of breath.
"You've been a long time, Elsie. We couldn't think what had happened to you!" added Violet, locking the door finally for the night.