train oneself to be some good in the dark. Now, Tuppence, be a good Sydney Thames. How many steps to that cane?”
Tuppence made a desperate guess.
“Three straight, five left,” she hazarded.
Tommy paced it uncertainly, Tuppence interrupting with a cry of warning as she realised that the fourth step left would take him slap against the wall.
“There’s a lot in this,” said Tuppence. “You’ve no idea how difficult it is to judge how many steps are needed.”
“It’s jolly interesting,” said Tommy. “Call Albert in. I’m going to shake hands with you both, and see if I know which is which.”
“All right,” said Tuppence, “but Albert must wash his hands first. They’re sure to be sticky from those beastly acid drops he’s always eating.”
Albert, introduced to the game, was full of interest.
Tommy, the hand shakes completed, smiled complacently.
“The keyboard of silence cannot lie,” he murmured. “The first was Albert, the second, you, Tuppence.”
“Wrong!” shrieked Tuppence. “Keyboard of silence indeed! You went by my wedding ring. And I put that on Albert’s finger.”
Various other experiments were carried out, with indifferent success.
“But it’s coming,” declared Tommy. “One can’t expect to be infallible straight away. I tell you what. It’s just lunch time. You and I will go to the Blitz, Tuppence. Blind man and his keeper. Some jolly useful tips to be picked up there.”