He choked down his rising ire.
“What things have you got?” he asked.
“My jewel case.”
“That ought to be in the safe.”
“What is the combination?” she asked.
“Telma,” he said, before he knew what he was saying. And not another soul in the world knew that secret!
Before his exasperation could find adequate expression, she had taken from the drawer and laid on the desk a small black object, at the sight of which Gordon recoiled.
“You really ought not to keep firearms in the house, Diana,” he said nervously. “If you go fooling with a thing like that, you might do yourself an enormous amount of harm—in fact, kill yourself.”
“Fiddlesticks!” said Diana. “I know that gun inside out. I could hit that keyhole three times in the five”—she pointed to the door.