“Splendidly. I say, Jimmy, I’m thrilled to the core.”
“And you might as well make your will before starting.”
“Better and better. But I wish I knew what it was all about.”
“You will as soon as we meet. I’ll tell you this much. We’re going to get ready the hell of a surprise for No. 7!”
Bundle hung up the receiver and turned to Loraine, giving her a rapid resume of the conversation. Loraine rushed upstairs and hurriedly packed her suitcase, and Bundle put her head round her father’s door.
“I’m taking Loraine home, Father.”
“Why? I had no idea she was going today.”
“They want her back,” said Bundle vaguely. “Just telephoned. Bye-bye.”
“Here, Bundle, wait a minute. When will you be home?”
“Don’t know. Expect me when you see me.”
With this unceremonious exit Bundle rushed upstairs, put a hat on, slipped into her fur coat and was ready to start. She had already ordered the Hispano to be brought round.
The journey to London was without adventure, except such as was habitually provided by Bundle’s driving. They left the car at a garage and proceeded direct to the Seven Dials Club.
The door was opened to them by Alfred. Bundle pushed her way past him without ceremony and Loraine followed.
“Shut the door, Alfred,” said Bundle. “Now, I’ve come here especially to do you a good turn. The police are after you.”