"Give the key to me," he begged, "and ask no questions."
She shook her head.
"I should object most strongly to nocturnal disturbers of my slumbers!"
It seemed to her that his frame had become tenser, his tone harder. The grip of his fingers was still upon her wrist.
"Even your objection," he said, "might not relieve you of the possibility of their advent."
"Don't be silly," she answered, "and, above all, don't try to threaten me. If you want my help—"
She looked steadfastly across at the looming outline of the Hastings' house.
"I do want your help," he assured her.
"How long should you require the letter for?"
"One hour," he replied.