“Thanks. It’s very kind of you.”
“You’re entirely welcome,” answered Belle. “And when your body is finally discovered here, it will be assumed that you came here alone in search of Flood and accidentally got caught between the iron doors.”
“Quite reasonable, I am sure.”
“Very clever, isn’t it? You see, Carter, no one will ever be suspected of having lured you here and lodged you in there. You are reputed to be too clever to be caught in a trap in that fashion. It’s dead open and shut that your death will be attributed to an accident.”
“Providing I die here,” supplemented Nick.
“If you don’t, there’ll be something wrong with the deck,” cried Belle, with derisive assurance. “I’ll come to your funeral, Carter, and send a broken column.”
“Good enough. I’d prefer gates ajar, however.”
“Doors ajar, you mean,” cried Belle, with a scream of laughter. “Good-by, Carter. I’m going to leave you now. I have a date at the Waldorf at six. I’m going to dine with a yellow-haired chappie from Dakota.”
“Good-by—and good riddance,” cried Nick.
The last brought no answer.