He
uttered a strangled cry, then dashed out and slammed the door
behind him.
'There's someone in there!'
Lady Wetherby's tranquil voice made itself heard.
'Nonsense; who could be in there?'
'I heard him, I tell you. He growled at me!'
It seemed to Mr Pickering that the time had come to relieve the
mental distress which he was causing his host. He raised his
voice.
'It's all right!' he called.
'There!' said Lord Wetherby.
'Who's that?' asked Lady Wetherby, through the door.
'It's all right. It's me--Pickering.'
The door was opened a few inches by a cautious hand.
'Is that you, Pickering?'
'Yes. It's all right.'
'Don't keep saying it's all right,' said Lord Wetherby, irritably.
'It isn't all right. What do you mean by hiding in the dark and
popping out and barking at a man? You made me bite my tongue. I've
never had such a shock in my life.'
Mr Pickering left his lair and came out into the open. Lord
Wetherby was looking aggrieved, Lady Wetherby peacefully
inquisitive. For the first time Mr Pickering discovered that
Claire was present. She was standing behind Lady Wetherby with a
floating white something over her head, looking very beautiful.
'For the love of Mike!' said Lady Wetherby.
Mr Pickering became aware that he was still holding the revolver.
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