"I'll go and look, if you like," said Jane agreeably. "You amuse yourselves somehow till I come back."
She ran easily up the stairs, three at a time. Mr. Mortimer turned to
Mr. Bennett.
"It's all very well your saying Wilhelmina mustn't go, but, if she doesn't, how can we get the police? The house isn't on the 'phone, and nobody else can drive the car."
"That's true," said Mr. Bennett, wavering.
"I'm going," said Billie resolutely. It occurred to her, as it has occurred to so many women before her, how helpless men are in a crisis. The temporary withdrawal of Jane Hubbard had had the effect which the removal of a rudder has on a boat. "It's the only thing to do. I shall be back in no time."
She stepped firmly to the coat-rack, and began to put on her motoring-cloak. And just then Jane Hubbard came downstairs, shepherding before her a pale and glassy-eyed Bream.
"Right under the bed," she announced cheerfully, "making a noise like a piece of fluff in order to deceive burglars."
Billie cast a scornful look at her fiancee. Absolutely unjustified, in my opinion, but nevertheless she cast it. But it had no effect at all. Terror had stunned Bream Mortimer's perceptions. His was what the doctors call a penumbral mental condition. He was in a sort of trance.
"Bream," said Billie, "I want you to come in the car with me to fetch the police."
"All right," said Bream.