he asked.
“I think,” said Tuppence, “that she has fled at the dictates of her heart, feeling that she loves this young man too well for her peace of mind.”
Tommy looked at her doubtfully.
“I know they do it in books,” he said, “but I’ve never known any girl who did it in real life.”
“No?” said Tuppence. “Well, perhaps you’re right. But I daresay Lawrence St. Vincent will swallow that sort of slush. He’s full of romantic notions just now. By the way, I guaranteed results in twenty-four hours—our special service.”
“Tuppence—you congenital idiot, what made you do that?”
“The idea just came into my head. I thought it sounded