"Cannon Street!" She supported herself an instant against the jamb of the door. And then she looked back to see that the butler was out of earshot. "Sir William can't know we are going to—Cannon Street, or he wouldn't be allowing Madge—" How well she knew one aspect of London!
"I don't mean the police station," replied Singleton.
"What do you mean?" she asked, indignant at the trick.
"The hotel."
She turned another look across her shoulder. The corridor was empty. "You aren't meaning I am not to leave the hotel?"
"You won't need to leave the hotel, not till about five o'clock to-morrow afternoon."
"Why didn't you say that in time to prevent my friends here from taking all the trouble to order my room to be ready for me at their house in town?"
Mr. Singleton did not stop to point out that the order had been Miss Greta's own and that he had politely opposed it. "I am sure you must appreciate that your preference for the convenience of a hotel will come better from you."
"There are things I must go out for."
"Oh?" he looked at her.