For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire. The noise of a bolt came to Alderley’s ears. Brendon. “Of course!” he said. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the great shrouded shapes of the furniture. Fast asleep, he is.
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