“He asked you to leave him that?” she whispered.
“Yes!”
“You are not going in there at all?”
“Not at all.”
Again she played a little more loudly for a few moments. Then the music died away once more.
“What reason did he give for keeping possession of that?”
“Another hobby,” Hamel replied. “He is an inventor, it seems. He has the model of something there; he would not tell me what.”
She shivered a little, and her music drifted away. She bent over the keys, her face hidden from him.
“You will not go away just yet?” she asked softly. “You are going to stay for a few days, at any rate?”
“Without a doubt,” he assured her. “I am altogether my own master.”