He went to the door and leered, behind her back, at Weald. Then he went out, and Weald heard him clumping heavily down the stairs.
"I didn't say you were to drink a whole bottle," remarked Jill, surveying Weald's unsteady balance.
"You don't understand, Jill. I've been finding a way out."
He walked rockily to the cupboard that Donnell had indicated and dragged open the doors. After some fumbling he was able to open the sliding door at the back, and then he found a switch. The light showed a flight of steps leading down into a damp and musty darkness.
"Our way out!" declaimed Weald grandiosely.
"Very interesting," said the girl, "but we don't happen to be going that way."
He stared.
"Not going that way?"
"How the Angels of Doom would miss you!" she said caustically. "Without you they'd be absolutely helpless. The great brain, always clear and alert in times of crisis."
"Jill!"