“Horrible little den, full of bamboo and draperies and pampas grass—I know,” nodded Bob. “Well, either she's asleep or she thinks it's fun to keep us on the mat. I'll try her again.” He pressed the bell, and the sound of its whirring echoed through the silent house.
CHAPTER IV
COMING HOME
The bolt grated, as if grudgingly, and slowly the door opened as far as the limits of its chain would permit, and Mrs. Rainham's face appeared in the aperture. She glared at them for a minute without speaking.
“So you have come home?” she said at last. The chain fell, and the door opened. “I wonder you trouble to come home at all. May I ask where you have been?”
“She has been with me, Mrs. Rainham,” Bob said cheerfully. “May I come in?”
Mrs. Rainham did not move. She held the door half open, blocking the way.
“It is far too late for me to ask you in,” she answered frigidly. “Cecilia can explain her conduct, I presume.”
“Oh, there's really nothing to explain,” Bob answered. “It was so late when she got out this afternoon that I kept her—why, it was after half-past four before she was dressed.”