"There it was," he concluded, with a husky sigh of regret "What a pity you can't accept"
"Pardon me," Martin told him. "After you said you insisted on holding to it, I never said I wouldn't accept"
Stannard caught the key with a flat smack against his palm, and looked up.
"Meaning what?"
"That I do accept with great pleasure."
There was a silence. If a short time before Fleet House might have laughed, now- it seemed to be listening. Ruth, her white teeth fastened in her under-lip, hesitated.
"You mean that?" Stannard demanded.
"Naturally I mean it" Martin reflected. "We do all this, of course, in the dark?"
Stannard was slightly taken aback.
"No," be answered, after a slight hesitation. "Even in the best ghost-hunting tradition, that's not necessary. I have brought several portable electric lamps, with plenty of spare batteries. Each of us may have a lamp. If only," he added, "to read and pass the time."