Nothing Venture by Patricia Wentworth Page B

felt before. He could not have said quite what it was. It came, and was gone again. It was as if something had touched, very lightly touched, some sensitive spot so deep down in his consciousness that he could not tell what it was that was stirred.
    Both of them came out of that moment with a faint sense of shock. Jervis caught sight of the station clock and exclaimed.
    â€œPoor old Page will be cursing me!”
    With a queer leap of the pulses Nan realized that she had forgotten, actually forgotten, why she had come to meet Jervis.
    He was crossing the platform.
    â€œI’ll call for you if you will tell me your address. I don’t know why I didn’t ask you for it. I ought to have it.”
    She said, “ Please ”; and then, “I haven’t told you why I came to meet you. It’s very important.”
    He turned half round, frowning.
    â€œCan’t you tell me at dinner?”
    â€œNo, I can’t. It’s urgent.”
    He stopped, faced her, and said,
    â€œWhat is it? Page will curse me”
    The colour burned in Nan’s cheeks. How can you tell an impatient, champing man that you believe someone is going to try and kill him in the open street in broad daylight?
    She said with a gasp, “It’s no good—you won’t believe me”; and could have said nothing that would so instantly have caught his attention.
    â€œWhy—what’s up?”
    â€œWill you believe me?” said Nan.
    â€œWell, you might give me a chance one way or the other.”
    They were within a few feet of an empty bench. Nan put her hand on his arm and pointed to it. They went over to the bench and sat down.
    â€œI don’t see how you’re going to believe me,” said Nan desperately.
    Jervis stared at her. What on earth was she going to say? He decided that it wouldn’t hurt old Page to wait.
    â€œGo on!” he said.
    â€œPeople do get run over,” said Nan breathlessly.
    â€œOh, constantly.”
    â€œSomeone’s going to try and run you over.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œFive hundred pounds,” said Nan in a shred of a voice.
    Jervis stared harder. She was awfully pale. Her eyes were wide, and solemn, and frightened.
    â€œMy dear girl, what are you talking about?”
    Nan began to tell him as well as she could. Now that she had to put the thing into words, it set not only her voice but the whole of her shaking.
    â€œI don’t understand,” said Jervis. “You heard these two men talking?”
    Nan nodded.
    â€œHow could you? Why didn’t they see you?”
    She showed him with a finger set at right angles to another finger.
    â€œIt was a c-corner. I came up behind the t-taxi. The driver had his b-back to me.”
    â€œTell me exactly what you heard.”
    She said it all over again.
    â€œHe said, ‘It’s the four-fifteen all right. You’ll have to hurry.’ He said, ‘Let him come out of the station and get well away.’ He said you were sure to walk because you had a craze for exercise.”
    Jervis was bending forward looking at her intently.
    â€œYou heard my name?”
    â€œNo—not your name.”
    â€œThen what does all this amount to?”
    â€œPlease, please listen.”
    He moved impatiently.
    Nan went on.
    â€œThe driver said, suppose you took a taxi; and he said, ‘Then you must do the best you can.’ And the driver said he wasn’t keen; and he said, ‘Take it or leave it!’ And the driver said that five hundred pounds was five hundred pounds, and that ‘jug’ was ‘jug’—that’s prison, isn’t it? And then they talked about his getting two months for dangerous driving; and the driver was afraid it might be a lot more, but in the end he said, ‘All right, I’ll do it,’” She stopped and clenched one hand upon the other.
    â€œAnd what’s all this got to do with me?” said