“What did she say?”
“I don’t think she was particularly ravished at the thought. Patch is having nightmares and Nanny isn’t coming.”
“I see.”
Henry looked gravely at Roberta and then smiled. There was a quality in Henry’s smile that had always touched Roberta and endeared him to her. He made a comic family grimace, winked, and laid his finger against his nose. Roberta made the same grimace and Henry withdrew. With an illogical singing in her heart she put on her own overcoat and hat and took her suitcase out into the passage to wait for Henry. This time last night they had been dancing together.
It was not very pleasant crossing the landing where a policeman stood on guard by the dark lift but Henry lightened the situation by saying; “We’re not fleeing from justice, officer.”
“That’s quite all right, sir,” answered the policeman. “The Chief Inspector told us all about you.”
“Good night,” said Henry, piloting Roberta down the stairs.
“Good night, sir,” said the policeman and his voice rang hollow in the lift well.
Roberta remembered her last trip down the stairs when she went to fetch Giggle and Tinkerton and how like a nightmare it had seemed. Now the stairs seemed a way of escape. It was glorious to reach the ground floor and see the lights of traffic through the glass doors. It was splendid when the doors were opened to breathe the night air of London. Henry took her elbow and they moved forward into a blinding whiteness that flashed and was gone. A young man came up to Henry and with a queer air of hardened deference said: “Lord Rune? I wonder if you would mind?”
“I’m afraid I would, do you know,” said Henry. “Taxi!”