"I am not so sure," said Beale calmly, and the other stared at him.
"You have promised me," he began, with a note of acerbity in his voice.
"And you have advised me," said Beale.
Kitson choked down something which he was going to say, but which he evidently thought was better left unsaid.
"Wait," he commanded, "I will find out whether Miss Cresswell," he emphasized the words, "has gone to bed."
He passed through the door to Oliva's sitting-room and was gone a few minutes. When he came back Beale saw his troubled face, and ran forward to meet him.
"She's not there," said Kitson.
"Not in her room?"
"Neither in the sitting-room nor the bedroom. I have rung for her maid. Oh, here you are."