“You can’t be. All you have to do is to take the picture, open one of the windows, leave it open, and go back to your room.”
It sounded simple enough.
“And as to the picture itself—when I’ve got it?”
“Burn it. I’ll see that you have a good fire in your room.”
“But——”
She looked at me. She always did have the most wonderful eyes.
“Reggie,” she said; nothing more. Just “Reggie.”
She looked at me.
“Well, after all, if you see what I mean—The days that are no more, don’t you know. Auld Lang Syne, and all that sort of thing. You follow me?”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll do it.”