“Oh!” said Bob. Whereupon she smiled at him sweetly, just as if to say it was nice and exciting to have a great, big, bold (and wildly handsome) society-highwayman in her power. Why, she could send him to jail, if she wanted to. She had but to lift a little finger and he would have to jump. The consciousness of guilty knowledge and power she possessed made her glow all over. She didn’t really know though, yet, whether she would be kind or severe.
“Do you operate alone, or with accomplices?” she asked, after a few moments’ pleasurable anticipations.
“I beg pardon?” Bob was again gazing uneasily toward the door.
“Got any pals?” She tried to talk the way they do in the thief-books.
“No, I haven’t,” snapped Bob. That truth pact made it necessary to answer the most silly questions.
“Well, I didn’t know but you had,” murmured the temperamental young thing. “I heard a dog barking and that made me think you might have them. You’re sure you didn’t let anybody into the house?”
“I didn’t.”
Miss Dolly snuggled herself together more cozily. She seemed about to ask some more questions. Perhaps she would want to know if he had let anybody out, and then he would have to tell her—
“Look here,” said Bob desperately. “Maybe it hasn’t occurred to you, but—this—this isn’t exactly proper. Me here, like this, and you—”
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” answered Miss Dolly with wonderful assurance. “I can quite take care of myself.”