The two detectives concealed themselves in the alcove. William retired behind the curtains in front of the window. Jane dived behind the Chesterfield. A moment later the door opened.
Crouching in her corner, Jane could see nothing, but every word that was spoken came to her ears; and with every syllable her horror deepened.
“Give me your things,” she heard Rodney say, “and then we’ll go upstairs.”
Jane shivered. The curtains by the window shook. From the direction of the alcove there came a soft scratching sound, as the two detectives made an entry in their note-books.
For a moment after this there was silence. Then Anastatia uttered a sharp, protesting cry.
“Ah, no, no! Please, please!”
“But why not?” came Rodney’s voice.
“It is wrong—wrong.”
“I can’t see why.”
“It is, it is! You must not do that. Oh, please, please don’t hold so tight.”