Eight o’clock, nine o’clock. The two conversed in subdued voices; Mrs. Morgan was anxious, all but distressed. Half-past nine. ‘What can it mean, Jessica? I can’t help feeling a responsibility. After all, Nancy is quite a young girl; and I’ve sometimes thought she might be steadier.’
‘Hush! That was a knock.’
They waited. In a minute or two the door was opened a few inches, and a voice called ‘Jessica!’
She responded. Nancy was standing in the gloom.
‘Come into my room,’ she said curtly.
Arrived there, she did not strike a light. She closed the door, and took hold of her friend’s arm.
‘We can’t go back the day after to-morrow, Jessica. We must wait a day longer, till the afternoon of Friday.’
‘Why? What’s the matter, Nancy?’
‘Nothing serious. Don’t be frightened, I’m tired, and I shall go to bed.’
‘But why must we wait?’