She took from him the key and, shifting slightly, likewise locked the door into her bedroom through which she had come.
Then transferring the keys to her left hand, seemingly unaware of Jackson, who still awaited her further commands, her eyes studied a moment the possibilities of the apartment.
“Mr. Cheever?” she said in a low voice.
“Yes, Mrs. Kildair.”
“Blow out all the candles except the candelabrum on the table.”
“Put out the lights, Mrs. Kildair?”
“At once.”
Mr. Cheever, in rising, met the glance of his wife, and the look of questioning and wonder that passed did not escape the hostess.
“But, my dear Mrs. Kildair,” said Mrs. Jackson with a little nervous catch of her breath, “what is it? I’m getting terribly worked up! My nerves—”
“Miss Lille?” said the voice of command.