Then he began to examine the room carefully. The drawers yielded nothing, but on the sideboard he noticed a cigarette box had been moved. He could see the outline of dust had been disturbed. He opened the box, but it was empty. He took it over to the window and examined it carefully. Putting his fingers inside, he gently pushed. The bottom of the box suddenly sprang up. There was nothing in the false bottom. He took the box back and put it on the sideboard again.
Annabel came into the room again, touching her red hair with her finger-tips. She was quite calm. He looked her over thoughtfully.
“Finished?” she asked, going over to the table and picking up her bag. “Suppose you come and have some coffee with me?”
Duffy mashed his cigarette out in the tray. He held out his hand. “Give,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “Now don’t start being silly,” she said, there was a faint note of anger in her voice.
Duffy walked over to her. “Come on,” he said roughly. “Hand it over.”
“What is this?” She turned impatiently to the door.
Duffy said evenly, “Wait a minute, sister, you and I are going to have a little talk.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were stormy. “We’re going right out of this place,” she said. “I’ll talk to you over coffee.”
Duffy wandered over to the door and set his broad back against it. “We’ll talk right here,” he said briefly.