“Well, I don’t know,” he said. “I thought something like you’re wearing.”
She laughed. “Of course, that’s why you picked on me, wasn’t it? I think I’ve got something that’ll do. I don’t mind parting with clothes. It’s money I hate parting with. You see, Daddy pays for my clothes, and gives me pocket money for extras. He doesn’t seem to mind how many clothes I have, but he just won’t part with any more cash.”
George drove on, bewildered.
“We’re just here,” she called after a few minutes. “The gate’s on the right.”
George hesitated. Should he drive in? Should he risk a trap? Before he could make up his mind, he had reached the gates and had turned into a long, winding drive. But when he sighted a vast house through the trees, he slowed down and stopped the cab.
She jumped out. "Stay here,” she said. “I won’t be long.”
“All right,” he said uneasily, and watched her walk swiftly towards the house.
As soon as she was out of sight, George left the cab and moved off the drive into the garden. He couldn’t afford to trust her. He would give her ten minutes, and then he’d go. From where he stood, in the shadow of a big magnolia tree, he could see the house. He could see her run up the broad, white steps, open the door and go in. The ground floor was in darkness, but the windows of both the wings on the two upper floors showed lights.
He stood still, watching the house, his hand on the butt of his gun. A moment or so later a light sprang up in one of the centre windows, and he caught a glimpse of the girl as she passed to and fro before the window.
He relaxed slightly. Anyway, she wasn’t telephoning, he thought. How astounding! He was sure if anyone had tried to hold him up, he would have given them over to the police at the first possible opportunity.