"Peter, dear, there's just a faint smell of it ... surely your dear mother doesn't smoke cigarettes?"
"No," said William, absently, "it was a pipe he was smoking."
"Him," said William, who was beginning to tire of the whole thing. It was the thought of the tricycle alone that upheld him.
"Your poor mind is unhinged," said Miss Rubina, soothingly. "I expect you are worrying over your mother's illness, which I'm sure you exaggerate, darling. I'm sure she'd have written to tell me if she'd been really ill. Is this the pen she writes with? And is this blotting-paper she's actually used? Peter, dear, do you think I could take just a corner of it--just a corner, just to remember my visit by for always?"
Mr. Monkton Graham was growing uncomfortable. There was not really room under that table for a full-sized man to dispose his limbs. He stirred uneasily, and Miss Rubina Strange turned startled eyes to William, placing her finger on her lips.
Then, snatching up the sacred pen she wrote on the sacred paper, "Peter, there is a man underneath the table. Don't be alarmed. I am going to deal with him. Above all, do nothing to disturb your dear mother."
William said nothing. He felt that the affair had got beyond him. Miss Rubina Strange crept cautiously about the room. She took a long narrow table cloth from an occasional table, she took a length of picture-cord which she found in a drawer of the sacred writing desk, she took an ornamental dagger from a cabinet, she took a cushion from an arm-chair. Then she whispered to William, "No noise or disturbance. Remember your mother is ill!"
Just as the innocent Mr. Graham was trying to ease the ache in his neck by resting his head on his knee, he felt a sudden and violent attack in the rear. He was dragged out forcibly by a tall, thin female, who was nevertheless evidently possessed of unusual strength. Before he could remonstrate his feet were firmly tied together with a tablecloth, and he was half dragged, half helped to a sitting position on a chair. Then, leaning over him threateningly, with the dagger in one hand, the woman spoke.
"Make a sound," she said in a low, hissing voice, "utter one word, and I will strike. There is a sick woman in this house, and I will stick at nothing to protect her. You have come to rob a woman who is a dear friend of mine, and of every woman and, if necessary, I will take extreme measures----"