"Will you tell me why you wish to keep me here?"
"I thought I did tell you. The fact is, I do not wish you to do that little errand of yours."
"I don't understand you."
"Oh, yes, you do. You are not such a fool as all that. Now, my girl, you may as well bow to the inevitable. Make yourself comfortable till twelve. Read the paper, if you wish. There is an interesting account of the murder case. The woman, you know, who was killed in the flat upstairs. Have you followed it?"
"No, I have not," she replied, snappishly.
"That is strange. Do you know, I took you to be just the person who would have a deep interest in that kind of thing."
"Well, I am not."
For the next two hours not a word passed. Mr. Mitchel sat in a large arm-chair and simply watched the girl with an aggravating smile upon his face. In fact the smile was so aggravating, that after encountering it a few minutes, Lucette did not look at him again, but rivetted her gaze upon the opposite side of the street. At last the clock chimed twelve. Instantly the girl arose.
"May I go now?"