On the lowest landing we met Frau Schmidt.
“Where are you going, mein Herren?” she demanded.
“To work, madame,” he replied, lifting his cap with a courtesy which seemed to disarm her.
“But the child?” she demanded.
“Do not trouble yourself about him.”
“Is he asleep?”
“Not just now. He is all right, though.”
She gave us a look which meant volumes. I pulled Courvoisier out.
“Come along, do!” cried I. “She will keep you there for half an hour, and it is time now.”