“What marks?” asked Lord Charles while Roberta’s heart sank into a chasm. “I didn’t notice any marks.”
“I did,” said Roberta, in a much louder voice than she intended. “I wiped them off.”
“Why did you do this, Miss Grey?”
“I don’t quite know.” Why had she wiped away the marks? “I think it was because they looked so beastly. And I thought if other people used the lift — the lift was still working.”
“I see.” He was smiling at her. “Just tidying up?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t, you know,” said Alleyn, dismissing it. “Well,” he said, “I don’t think any purpose can be served by keeping you all together. I’m so sorry, Lady Charles, but I’m afraid I ought to see your small son.” Alleyn looked deprecatingly at Nanny. “I know it’s all against nursery law,” he said.
“The boy’s worn out already, sir,” said Nanny.
“Oh, Nanny, he isn’t,” said Patch.
“That will do, Patricia.”