"Ted! Ted!" she wailed, and put her arms round him.
He smiled to himself over her bowed head.
"What's the best time? While they're at dinner?"
She made a sign in the negative.
"No," she whispered, setting her teeth, as if every word were dragged from her. "No; the maid will be in the room putting the countess' things away; afterward—while they are in the drawing-room."
He bent and kissed her, his eyes shining eagerly.
"There! You've got more sense than I have, by a long chalk! I should never have thought of the maid being in the room. Clever Fan! Now, you'll put the key on the sill—when? Say ten o'clock. And you'll see, Fan, that the little window on the back staircase isn't locked, and keep at watch for us?"
"No, no!" she panted. "I will not! I cannot! I—I should faint! Don't ask me, Ted; don't—don't, dear! I shall say 'I'm ill'—and I shall be—and go to bed!"
"Not you!" he said, cheerfully and confidentially. "You'll just hang about the landing and keep watch for us; and if there's any one there to spoil our game, you'll go to the window and say, just loud enough for us to hear: 'What a fine night!'"
She hid her face on his breast, struggling with her sobs.