Eve recovered her self-possession. She was not a girl given to collapse in moments of crisis. The first shock of amazement had passed; a humiliating feeling of extreme foolishness, which came directly after, had also passed; she was now grimly ready for battle.
“ Where is Mr. Threepwood?” she asked.
“ Upstairs. I have put him in storage for a while. Do not worry about Comrade Threepwood. He has lots to think about. He is under the impression that if he stirs out he will be instantly shot.”
“ Oh? Well, I want to put this lamp down. Will you please pick up that table?”
“ By all means. But—I am a novice in these matters—ought I not first to say ‘Hands up!’ or something?”
“ Will you please pick up that table?”
“ A friend of mine—one Cootes—you must meet him some time—generall
