Arnold crawled through the open window, and from the pitch-black hall there came the sounds of demonstrative affection.
“Good gracious me, there’s no accounting for tastes!” said Jane, under her breath. And she too climbed down into the darkness.
Arnold appeared to be trying to explain Jane to Renata, whilst Renata alternated between sobs and kisses.
Jane lost her temper, suddenly and completely.
“For goodness’ sake, you two, come where there’s a light, and where we can talk sense. Every minute you waste is just asking for trouble. What’s that room with the light?”
It is difficult to be impressive in a low whisper, but Renata did stop kissing Arnold.
“My bedroom,” she said—“I’m supposed to be locked in.”
Jane groped in the dark and got Renata by the arm.
“Come along in there and talk to me. We’ve got to talk. Arnold can wait outside the window. I don’t want him in the least. You’re going to spend the rest of your life with him in Bolivia, so you needn’t worry. I simply won’t have him whilst we are talking.”
Arnold loathed Jane a little more, but Renata allowed herself to be detached from him with a sob.