“Oh, I couldn’t. I’ve no right to spoil a good joke.”
“Then you think it’s a joke?” he enquired gloomily.
“What else could it be?”
“I only wish I knew!”
The exclamation was so fervent that Miss Searle laughed again.
Six bells sounded in the pause that followed and the girl sat up suddenly with a little cry of mock dismay.
“Eleven o’clock! Good Heavens, I mustn’t loaf another minute! I’ve all my packing to do.”
She was up and standing before Staff could offer to assist her. But she paused long enough to slip a hand into his.
“Good night, Mr. Staff; and thank you for volunteering to help me.”
“I shan’t forget,” he promised. “Good night.”