"You will, of course, see the necessity of keeping this letter private.
"Ever yours,
"Arthur Roden."
As I gave the letter to Sylvia and the Seraph to read, I will admit that my first feeling was one of unsubstantial relief that Joyce had been in Oxford when the abduction took place in London. I did not in any way condone the offence, I should not have condoned it even had I known that she was mainly responsible for the abduction. Independently of all moral considerations, I found myself being glad that she was out of town at the time of the outrage. The consolation was flimsy. I concede that. But it is interesting to me to look back now and review my mental standpoint at that moment. I had already got beyond the point of administering moral praise and blame: my descent to active participation in crime followed with incredible abruptness.
I felt the "Private and Confidential" was not binding against the Seraph, as he had been present when Rawnsley described the disappearance of Mavis. While he expounded her father's letter to Sylvia, I gave its main points to Philip and Robin. The comments of the family were characteristic of its various members. Philip shook a statesmanlike head and opined that this was getting very serious, you know. Robin inquired plaintively who'd want to abduct a little thing like him.
"I don't want any 'competent escort,'" Sylvia exclaimed with her determined small chin in the air.
"For less than twenty-four hours," I begged. "I'm responsible for your safety till then. After that you can fight the matter out with your father."
"But I can look after myself even for the next twenty-four hours."
I assumed my severest manner.
"Have you ever seen me angry?" I said.
"Do you think you could frighten me?" she asked with a demure smile.