“Splendid, but he mightn’t come for weeks.”
“We’ll have to chance that. I’m glad you like the plan.” He rose.
“Where are you going?”
“To buy the car, of course,” replied Julius, surprised. “What make do you like? I guess you’ll do some riding in it before we’ve finished.”
“Oh,” said Tuppence faintly, “I like Rolls-Royces, but—”
“Sure,” agreed Julius. “What you say goes. I’ll get one.”
“But you can’t at once,” cried Tuppence. “People wait ages sometimes.”
“Little Julius doesn’t,” affirmed Mr. Hersheimmer. “Don’t you worry any. I’ll be round in the car in half an hour.”
Tuppence got up.
“You’re awfully good, Julius. But I can’t help feeling that it’s rather a forlorn hope. I’m really pinning my faith to Mr. Carter.”
“Then I shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Just an idea of mine.”
“Oh; but he must do something. There’s no one else. By the way, I forgot to tell you of a queer thing that happened this morning.”
And she narrated her encounter with Sir James Peel Edgerton. Julius was interested.
“What did the guy mean, do you think?” he asked.