“I think we ought to be businesslike. What exactly can we count upon you for, Mr. Carter?” Mr. Carter’s lips twitched slightly, but he replied succinctly: “Funds within reason, detailed information on any point, and no official recognition . I mean that if you get yourselves into trouble with the police, I can’t officially help you out of it. You’re on your own.”

Tuppence nodded sagely.

“I quite understand that. I’ll write out a list of the things I want to know when I’ve had time to think. Now⁠—about money⁠—”

“Yes, Miss Tuppence. Do you want to say how much?”

“Not exactly. We’ve got plenty to go with for the present, but when we want more⁠—”

“It will be waiting for you.”

“Yes, but⁠—I’m sure I don’t want to be rude about the government if you’ve got anything to do with it, but you know one really has the devil of a time getting anything out of it! And if we have to fill up a blue form and send it in, and then, after three months, they send us a green one, and so on⁠—well, that won’t be much use, will it?”

Mr. Carter laughed outright.

“Don’t worry, Miss Tuppence. You will send a personal demand to me here, and the money, in notes, shall be sent by return of post. As to salary, shall we say at the rate of three hundred a year? And an equal sum for Mr. Beresford, of course.”

Tuppence beamed upon him.