“Richard?” Philippa almost shrieked.
“You have seen Dick?” Helen gasped.
The intruder dived in his pockets and produced two sealed envelopes. He handed one each simultaneously to Helen and to Philippa.
“My letters of introduction,” he explained, with a little sigh of relief. “I trust that during their perusal you will invite me to have some tea. I am almost starving.”
The two women hastened towards the lamp.
“One moment, I beg,” their visitor interposed. “I have established, I trust, my credentials. May I remind you that I was compelled to ensure the safety of these few minutes' conversation with you, by locking that door. Are you likely to be disturbed?”
“No, no! No chance at all,” Philippa assured him.
“If we are, we'll explain,” Helen promised.
“In that case,” the intruder begged, “perhaps you will excuse me.”
He moved towards the door and softly turned the key, then he drew the curtains carefully across the French windows. Afterwards he made his way towards the tea-table. A little throbbing cry had broken from Helen's lips.