“You may sleep, but Mr. Superbus will sit in this room. I will lock the door on you both——”
“Personally, I prefer sitting outside,” said Mr. Superbus hastily. “I should like a smoke.”
“You will remain,” said Diana with firmness.
“If he does, I’ll chuck him out of the window,” said Gordon savagely.
Mr. Superbus backed from the room.
“He’ll be all right, ma’am—miss,” he said. “Trust old Uncle Isaac.”
Diana knew that it was useless to insist. She shut the door on her captive and went down to The Study, being confident that he would make no further attempt at escape.
She must get in touch with Bobbie, must even risk his annoyance at being dragged from his bed at that unearthly hour. She took up the telephone and put through a call. It was answered with surprising rapidity. The voice of an unknown man spoke: she guessed it was Bobbie’s servant.
“It is Miss Ford speaking. Can I speak to Mr. Selsbury?”
“He hasn’t been home all night, miss. I’ve been sitting up for him. He said he might get into London at daybreak.”