Pat, for her part, appeared composed.
"That mongrel of yours is a nice sort of watch-dog," she said. "I've been flinging tons of gravel at your window and she hasn't uttered a sound."
"Emily's gone away somewhere."
"I hope she gets bitten by a rabbit," said Pat. "I'm off that hound for life. I met her in the village a little while ago and she practically cut me dead."
There was a pause.
"Pat!" said John, thickly.
"I thought I'd come up and see how you were getting on. It was such a lovely night, I couldn't go to bed. What were you doing, prowling round?"
It suddenly came home to John that he was neglecting his vigil. The thought caused him no remorse whatever. A thousand burglars with a thousand jemmies could break into the Hall and he would not stir a step to prevent them.
"Oh, just walking."
"Were you surprised to see me?"