“Not in there!” Her loud whisper was threatening. He followed to the floor above. The room chosen was that in which Diana said she intended sleeping the man and wife who were to be engaged for the autumn cleaning. Heloise went in—she knew the room.
“Good-night,” she said.
“You have forgotten something,” said Diana.
“If you think I’m going to kiss you, there’s a surprise coming to you, girl,” said Heloise, and tried to shut the door.
“Your husband,” said Diana primitively.
The door slammed, Diana heard a chair dragged across the room, and guessed that the back of it was being propped under the handle. Gordon’s throat went dry.
“You have quarrelled?” said Diana. “Or perhaps you don’t....”
“I don’t!”
The voice came from his stomach—he had never suspected such a range of sound in himself.
“That’s very awkward.” She tapped her lips with a key. “You’ll have to go into the spare room. Come down.”