“I wish you would knock!” cried the Dominé, irrational from sheer annoyance. Ursula had started back into the shade, and her aunt did not at first perceive her.
“Roderigue,” gasped Miss Mopius, “there are thieves in the house!”
Burglary was Miss Mopius’s most persistent bugbear.
“What? Again?” said the Dominé.
“Hush. Not so loud. This time I distinctly heard them.”
“You always do,” interrupted the Dominé, who was an angel, but angry.
“At the window just under me, as I awoke from a restless sleep, I heard them, Roderigue. And I saw them. I saw two figures stealthily creeping. Ah!” Miss Mopius, who had hissed out all this from the landing, now clutched her brother-in-law’s arm. “We shall be murdered,” she sobbed. “Shut the door, Roderigue; lock it. I don’t know how I ever managed to summon up courage to come down.”
She gave a shrill scream as something moved behind her. Ursula stepped forward.
“Fear sees every danger double,” said the Dominé, with a smile to his daughter. “Go up-stairs again, Josine, and take some of your Lob.”