"No," I said gently. "It would have been the soldier's."
For a moment she smiled back. Then she slipped an arm round my neck.
"Let's call it Hans Andersen's," she whispered.
A perfect Babel arose suddenly from the kitchen. In the midst of the turmoil I seemed to discern Berry's fat laugh. The next second a large key hurtled through the window.
I picked it up and strode to the door. When I had put it into the keyhole, I paused.
"Buck up, Boy!" said Berry.
"One question," said I. "Where was the key?"
"Where d'you think?" said Jonah bitterly.
"In his pocket all the time?" said I.
"Right," said Berry. "Now do your worst."