“There or thereabouts,” Cecil admitted. “It seemed the best thing to do, in the circumstances.”
Sir Clinton showed obvious distaste for discussing the matter further. He turned to the girls.
“It’s high time you children were in bed. Dawn’s well up in the sky. You’ve had all the excitement you need, for the present; and a good sleep seems indicated.”
He gave a faint imitation of a stifled yawn.
“That sets me off,” said Una Rainhill, frankly. “I can hardly keep my eyes open. Come along, Joan. It’s quite bright outside and I’m not afraid to go to bed now.”
Joan rubbed her eyes.
“This sort of thing takes more out of one than twenty dances,” she admitted. “The beginning of the night was a bit too exciting for everyday use. How does one say ‘Good-night’ in proper form when the sun’s over the horizon? I give it up.”
With a gesture of farewell, she made her way to the door, followed by Una. When they had disappeared, Sir Clinton turned to Cecil Chacewater.
“Care to walk down the avenue a little to meet my car? The fresh air and all that. I rather like the dawn, myself, when it happens to come my way without too much exertion.”
Cecil saw that the Chief Constable was giving him an opening if he cared to take it.