After a little while Jane said:
“I must go. You know she came to my room before, and last night when I got back I found the door shut. I had left it open so as not to make any noise, but it was shut when I got back. That frightened me more than anything, but now I think it must have been the wind that shut it. I think so, only I’m not sure. It might have been the wind, or it might have been ... somebody. It’s much more frightening not to be sure. So I’d better go, hadn’t I?”
“Yes, you must go,” said Henry. “I’ll come with you and show you how to get out. And you must promise me, Jane, that you won’t come down here by yourself?”
“How can I promise? I might have to.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why,” said Jane, “but I might have to. Supposing they were murdering some one, and I heard the screams? Or suppose I knew that they were just going to blow the house up?”
“Well,” said Henry, with strong common sense, “I don’t see what good you’d do by getting murdered and blown up too, which is what it would come to. You really must promise me.”
“I really won’t.”
Henry gave her an exasperated shake.
“Look here, Jane,” he said, “the whole thing’s most infernally complicated. Tony’s chucking his job here, says he can’t stand it, and I must go back to town and see Piggy about that.”