shortly.”
“I say you know, I am no end grateful,” said Mr. Jones rising to his feet and shaking Tommy by the hand. “It has taken an awful load off my mind.”
Having seen his client out, Tommy returned to the inner office. Tuppence was at the cupboard that contained the Classic library.
“Inspector French,” said Tuppence.
“Eh?” said Tommy.
“Inspector French of course,” said Tuppence. “He always does alibis. I know the exact procedure. We have to go over everything and check it. At first it will seem all right and then when we examine it more closely we shall find the flaw.”
“There ought not to be much difficulty about that,” agreed Tommy. “I mean, knowing that one of them is a fake to start with makes the thing almost a certainty I should say. That is what worries me.”
“I don’t see anything to worry about in that.”
“I am worrying about the girl,” said Tommy. “She will probably be let in to marry that young man whether she wants to or not.”
“Darling,” said Tuppence, “don’t be foolish. Women are never the wild gamblers they appear. Unless that girl was already perfectly prepared to marry that pleasant but rather empty-headed young man, she would never have let herself in for a wager of this kind. But, Tommy, believe me, she will marry him with more enthusiasm and respect if he wins the wager than if she has to make it easy for him some other way.”
“You do think you know about everything,” said her husband.