“Then in that case,” said Miss March, rising, “I will go alone.”
Tommy raised a hand in protest.
“As I was about to say,” he said, “the Bishop must wait. I will leave a few words with Albert. I am convinced, Miss March, that until that paper has been safely deposited with Scotland Yard you are in active danger.”
“Do you think so?” said the girl doubtfully.
“I don’t think, I’m sure. Excuse me.” He scribbled some words on the pad in front of him, then tore off the leaf and folded it.
Taking his hat and stick, he intimated to the girl that he was ready to accompany her. In the outer office, he handed the folded paper to Albert with an air of importance.
“I am called out on an urgent case. Explain that to his lordship if he comes. Here are my notes on the case for Miss Robinson.”
“Very good, sir,” said Albert playing up. “And what about the Duchess’s pearls?”
Tommy waved his hand irritably.
“That must wait also.”
He and Miss March hurried out. Halfway down the stairs they encountered Tuppence coming up. Tommy passed her with a brusque: “Late again, Miss Robinson. I am called out on an important case.”
Tuppence stood still on the stairs and stared after them. Then, with raised eyebrows, she went on up to the office.
As they reached the street, a taxi came sailing up to them. Tommy, on the point of hailing it, changed his mind.