Someone came and battered at the door. "I'm sure they're here," cried a voice.
"They can't be," said another. "The place is locked, and there's no key."
"Bet you it's on the inside!" persisted the first, and a match was lighted and held to the lock.
The man inside laughed under his breath. The key was dangling between his hands.
"Oh, come on!" called a girl's voice from the distance. "They wouldn't hide in there. It's such a dirty hole. Lady Violet is much too fastidious."
And Violet, sitting within, drew herself together with a little shrinking movement. Yes, that had always been their word for her. She was fastidious. She had rather prided herself upon having that reputation. She had always regarded women who made themselves cheap with scorn.
The chase passed on, and Wentworth's arm slipped round her again. "Now we are safe," he said. "By Jove, dear, how I have schemed for this! It was really considerate of your worthy husband to absent himself."
Again, gently but quite decidedly, she drew herself away. "I think Freda is right," she said. "This is rather a dirty place."
He laughed. "A regular black hole! But wait till I can get you out on to the loch! It's romantic enough out there. But look here, Violet! I've got to come to an understanding with you. Now that we've found each other, darling, we are not going to lose each other again, are we?"
She was silent in the darkness.