must temporarily have deafened the neighbourhood. “But I suppose I mustn’t ask? You’re not escaping from justice, are you?”
“I’m not quite sure,” said Anthony. “I shall know soon.”
“That Scotland Yard man isn’t as much of a rabbit as I thought,” said Bundle thoughtfully.
“Battle’s a good man,” agreed Anthony.
“You ought to have been in diplomacy,” remarked Bundle. “You don’t part with much information, do you?”
“I was under the impression that I babbled.”
“Oh! Boy! You’re not eloping with Mademoiselle Brun, by any chance?”
“Not guilty!” said Anthony with fervour.
There was a pause of some minutes during which Bundle caught up and passed three other cars. Then she asked suddenly:
“How long have you known Virginia?”
“That’s a difficult question to answer,” said Anthony, with perfect truth. “I haven’t actually met her very often, and yet I seem to have known her a long time.”
Bundle nodded.
“Virginia’s got brains,” she remarked abruptly. “She’s always talking nonsense, but she’s got brains all right. She was frightfully good out in Herzoslovakia, I believe. If Tim Revel had lived he’d have had a fine career—and mostly owing to Virginia. She worked for him tooth and nail. She did everything in the world she could for him—and I know why, too.”