“Yes,” he said, and said no more.
In her discretion, Ursula asked no further questions.
Tab was looking at Carver with a new respect.
“Every day, Carver,” he said seriously, “you are getting nearer the fictional ideal of a real detective!”
Carver’s down-turned lips took an upward curve, and then he looked at his watch.
“Ten o’clock, Miss Ardfern,” he said with mock severity, and Ursula made a move to the door. “We must turn these lights out before you leave the room. Everything must be done in order, remembering that somewhere the Black Man is watching.”
She shivered.
It was Tab who blew out the light in the drawing-room.
“I think we may draw the curtains,” said Carver softly, and pulled back the heavy velvet hangings from the window.
It was a starlight night and there was just sufficient light in the sky to outline the gateway.