“Then I suppose I must go and get some. But it is late. The shops will be shut. And I don’t like leaving Mr. Graves.”

“Can’t you send the coachman?” I asked.

She shook her head impatiently. “No, that is no use. I must wait until Mr. Weiss comes.”

“That won’t do,” I said, sharply. “He will slip through our fingers while you are waiting. You must go and get that coffee at once and bring it to me as soon as it is ready. And I want a tumbler and some water.”

She brought me a water-bottle and glass from the washstand and then, with a groan of despair, hurried from the room.