Loraine rose and dressed herself in a tweed coat and skirt. Into one pocket of the coat she dropped an electric torch. Then she opened the drawer of her dressing table and took out a small ivory-handled pistol⁠—almost a toy in appearance. She had bought it the day before at Harrods and she was very pleased with it.

She gave a final glance round the room to see if she had forgotten anything, and at that moment the big dog rose and came over to her, looking up at her with pleading eyes and wagging his tail.

Loraine shook her head.

“No, Lurcher. Can’t go. Missus can’t take you. Got to stay here and be a good boy.”

She dropped a kiss on the dog’s head, made him lie down on his rug again, and then slipped noiselessly out of the room, closing the door behind her.