Peter Ruff found his hiding place all that could have been desired. This secondary room itself was almost in darkness, but he was just able to appreciate the comforting fact that it possessed a separate exit into the hall. Through the folds of the curtain he had a complete view of the further apartment. The little lady had changed her gown of stiff white satin for one of flimsier material, and, seated in the easy-chair, she was busy pouring herself out some coffee. She took a cigarette from a silver box, and lighting it, curled herself up in the chair and composed herself as though to listen. To her as well as to Peter Ruff, as he crouched in his hiding place, the moments seemed to pass slowly enough. Yet, as he realised afterward, it could not have been ten minutes before she sat upright in a listening attitude. There was some one coming! Peter Ruff, too, heard a man’s firm footsteps come up the flagged stones.
The little lady sprang to her feet.
“Paul!” she exclaimed.
Paul Jermyn came slowly to meet her. He seemed a little out of breath. His tie was all disarranged and his collar unfastened.
The little lady, however, noticed none of these things. She looked only into his face.
“Have you got it?” she asked, eagerly.
He thrust his hand into his breast-coat pocket, and held an envelope out toward her.
“Sure!” he answered. “I promised!”
She gave a little sob, and with the packet in her hand came running straight toward the spot where Peter Ruff was hiding.
He shrank back as far as possible. She stopped just short of the curtain, opened the drawer of a table which stood there, and slipped the packet in. Then she came back once more to where Paul Jermyn was standing.