He pressed the buzzer on his desk. Albert appeared ushering in the client.
The girl stopped in the doorway as though undecided. Tommy came forward.
“Come in, Mademoiselle,” he said kindly, “and seat yourself here.”
Tuppence choked audibly, and Tommy turned upon her with a swift change of manner. His tone was menacing.
“You spoke, Miss Robinson? Ah! no, I thought not.”
He turned back to the girl.
“We will not be serious or formal,” he said. “You will just tell me all about it, and then we will discuss the best way to help you.”
“You are very kind,” said the girl. “Excuse me, but are you a foreigner?”
A fresh choke from Tuppence. Tommy glared in her direction out of the corner of his eye.
“Not exactly,” he said with difficulty. “But of late years I have worked a good deal abroad. My methods are the methods of the Sûreté.”
“Oh!” The girl seemed impressed.
She was, as Tommy had indicated, a very charming girl. Young and slim, with a trace of golden hair peeping out from under her little brown felt hat, and big serious eyes.
That she was nervous could be plainly seen. Her little hands were twisting themselves together, and she kept clasping and unclasping the catch of her lacquer red handbag.