“There's my stepfather,” she answered. “But he's not here tonight.”
“Oh, is he away?” Dunn asked, his expression almost one of disappointment.
The girl, whose first extreme fear had passed and who was watching him as keenly as he watched her, noticed this manner of disappointment, and could not help wondering what sort of burglar it was who was not pleased to hear that the man of the house was away, and that he had only two women to deal with.
And it appeared to her that he seemed not only disappointed, but rather at a loss what to do next.
As in truth he was, for that the stepfather should be away, and this girl and her mother all alone, was, perhaps, the one possibility that he had never considered.
She noticed, too, that he did not pay any attention to her jewellery, which was lying close to his hand on the toilet-table, and though in point of actual fact this jewellery was not of any great value, it was exceedingly precious in her eyes, and she did not understand a burglar who showed no eagerness to seize on it.
“Did you want to see Mr. Dawson?” she asked, her voice more confident now and even with a questioning note in it.
“Mr. Dawson! Who's he?” Dunn asked, disconcerted by the question, but not wishing to seem so.
“My stepfather, Mr. Deede Dawson,” she answered. “I think you knew that. If you want him, he went to London early today, but I think it's quite likely he may come back tonight.”
“What should I want him for?” growled Dunn, more and more disconcerted, as he saw that he was not playing his part too well.