Philippa turned her head, but her eyes were filled with incredulous fear.

A little current of cool air was blowing through the room.

The French windows stood half open, and with his back to them, a man who had apparently entered the room from the gardens and passed noiselessly across the soft carpet, was standing by the door, listening.

They heard him turn the key.

Then, in a businesslike manner, he returned to the windows and closed them, the eyes of the two women following him all the time.