dates.”
“Names and dates,” said Jimmy thoughtfully.
“Gerry didn’t seem to mind much,” continued Loraine. “He laughed. He asked me if I had ever heard of the Mafia, and then said it would be queer if a society like the Mafia started in England—but that that kind of secret society didn’t take on much with English people. ‘Our criminals,’ he said, ‘haven’t got a picturesque imagination.’ ”
Jimmy pursed up his lips into a whistle.
“I’m beginning to see,” he said. “Seven Dials must be the headquarters of some secret society. As he says in his letter to you, he thought it rather a joke to start with. But evidently it wasn’t a joke—he says as much. And there’s something else: his anxiety that you should forget what he’d told you. There can be only one reason for that—if that society suspected that you had any knowledge of its activity, you too would be in danger. Gerald realised the peril, and he was terribly anxious—for you.”
He stopped, then he went on quietly:
“I rather fancy that we’re all going to be in danger—if we go on with this.”
“If—?” cried Bundle indignantly.
“I’m talking of you two. It’s different for me. I was poor old Ronny’s pal.” He looked at Bundle. “You’ve done your bit. You’ve delivered the message he sent me. Now, for God’s sake keep out of it, you and Loraine.”
Bundle looked questioningly at the other girl. Her own mind was definitely made up, but she gave no indication of it just then. She had no wish to push Loraine Wade into a dangerous undertaking.