A third time the bell rang before he opened the door.
Steppe filled the doorway, the expanse of his shirt-front showed like a great white heart, against the gloom of his evening dress.
"Hello. You're in, huh? Long time answering the bell—I suppose you've got somebody here."
He looked around. The only light in the room was the shaded table-lamp. Ronnie had extinguished the others before he sat down.
"The wicked love the darkness, huh, huh!" Steppe chuckled, and then looking past him, Ronnie saw that he was not alone. Beryl waited at the door and behind her was Dr. Merville.
"Get dressed and come out," commanded Steppe noisily. "What's the matter with all you people, huh? Come along. We're going to a theatre. You're as bad as Beryl, sitting in the dark. You overbred people think too much."
"May we come in, Ronnie?" asked Beryl.
It was very likely that Steppe's crude suggestion was justified. She had no illusions about Ronnie.
"Come in? Of course you can come in," said Steppe scornfully. "Now hurry, Morelle. We'll give you ten minutes—and put some lights on."
"There is enough light."