There, lying horizontally across the top of the bed was Tuppence, her eyes closed, and her face waxen. For a moment, Tommy felt a sudden dread, then he saw the slight rise and fall of her breast. She was drugged, not dead.
He turned to Albert and Evans.
“And now, Messieurs,” he said dramatically. “The final coup !”
With a swift unexpected gesture, he seized Mrs. Van Snyder by her elaborately dressed hair. It came off in his hand.
“As I thought,” said Tommy. “ No. 16!”
It was about half an hour later when Tuppence opened her eyes and found a doctor and Tommy bending over her.
Over the events of the next quarter of an hour a decent veil had better be drawn, but after that period the doctor departed with the assurance that all was now well.
“ Mon ami , Hastings,” said Tommy fondly. “How I rejoice that you are still alive.”
“Have we got No. 16?”
“Once more have I crushed him like an egg shell—In other words, Carter’s got him. The little grey cells! By the way, I’m raising Albert’s wages.”
“Tell me all about it.”
Tommy gave her a spirited narrative, with certain omissions.
“Weren’t you half frantic about me?” asked Tuppence faintly.
“Not particularly. One must keep calm, you know.”