Harry!
Wait—! [He goes to the door, and examines the key-hole. Then he turns to the Duchess and beckons to her. She joins him. He says, in a whisper, pointing to the key-hole.] Do you notice—?
Duchess.
What?
Quex.
The key is in the lock horizontally.
Duchess.
She may have been peeping at us? [He nods. She is sick at the thought.] How inexcusably careless of me!
Quex.