“Nothing, lady. I can’t sleep,” he stammered.
“See the policeman: he’ll nurse you,” said Diana.
He disappeared up the passage leading to the courtyard, but presently he came back and walked boldly back to the main street. Diana saw the smoking policeman cross the road. There was a brief conversation and Mr. Stark disappeared. Diana thought she had seen the policeman’s hands moving scientifically over the loafer’s body.
She was thoroughly awake now. The hour was 3.15. She took up her handbag, unlocked and opened her door and listened. The watchful Julius was awake instantly.
“It is only I, Mr. Superbus,” she said, relieved to find him so alert. “I am afraid you’re having a very uncomfortable time.”
“No, miss: I seldom sleep. Napoleon was that way by all accounts. Want anything, ma’am?”
“I’m going to make myself a cup of tea,” she said, and went down the gloomy stairs to the kitchen.
She was very hungry—she made tea, found a tinful of biscuits and called her protector in a whisper to share the feast.
“We might as well have some light,” she said, and lit the hall lamp. “Come in, Mr. Superbus.”
The door of The Study did not yield to her pressure, and she frowned.