“It looks like a tomb.”
I was aware that Aire had made a swift movement; then I saw him stock still, with his hand part way to his lips in a gesture of surprise.
“No lights, no. But there’s someone in the conservatory.”
“What!”
“I saw the gleam of a face at the window of the tower. Just a white blotch. See that?”
“Right‑o.”
We made across the lawn at a run, entered the Hall of the Moth by the unfastened french window, and encountered two figures emerging from the conservatory.
“I’m so glad you’ve come!”
“Miss Lebetwood!”
“Yes, it’s Millicent and I. Don’t—don’t be afraid,” she added with a little, unsteady laugh.