“Now, Miss Cressage,” said Westenhanger, pushing the door until it was almost closed, “would you mind putting on your gloves.”
The girl did so and then looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“What’s all this about, Mr. Westenhanger? I don’t understand.”
“I’m afraid you must bear with it for a minute or two more and then it will be quite obvious. Do you mind if I blindfold you with this scarf? I know it looks like a child’s game; but I really am serious.”
He wound the scarf round her head and fastened it gently.
“Can you see?”
“No; you’ve been quite efficient.”
“It’s most important that you shouldn’t see anything. Quite sure you’re absolutely blindfolded?”
“Quite.”
“Very good.”