Softly all three of them went down all those flights of stone stairs. Still no sign of anyone, no sound. They themselves were evidently, and as usual, the only occupants of the block who were up so late; but the street door was open.
“That is proof,” whispered Maddelena. “It is always closed at eleven; after that we have to admit ourselves with our pass-key.”
“How many keys to this door have you?” asked Austin, after looking out into the night and closing the door, latching it this time.
“Only one—my uncle has it; and if others are late they must rouse the porter.”
“I wonder who has that missing key—the key you told me just now that Lady Rawson had, and lost,” said Austin, when they had returned to the drawing-room. “Take my advice, Mr. Cacciola, and have a new lock to your front door to-morrow. And don’t leave any spare keys around!”
CHAPTER XVIII HARMONY—AND DISCORD
“Is that all, Mr. Starr?”