“Daddy,” she said, “he’s absolutely mad. He says that he’s going to rescue me and take me to my aunt’s in Scotland.”
“Oh, yes, I remember,” said the artist, “that’s one of his obsessions. They told me that. But he’s harmless. Humour him. I simply must get that Charles I costume in four poses.”
She returned to the studio.
“You’re ready to come?” said Robert.
“Er—yes,” she said.
“How shall we escape?”
“Oh—er—quite easily,” she said, watching him guardedly and backing towards the door.
“You trust me?” said Robert ardently.
“Er—yes,” she said.
The artist returned.