murmured. âI havenât had any breakfast.â Ridiculous explanation! âA letter Z? Well?â
âLook here, Miss Wynne, what about that breakfast?â he suggested. âDonât you think itâs time you got it inside you?â
âTell me the rest first.â
âPerhaps there isnât any rest.â
She thought for a moment, then replied, âIf you say there isnât, Iâll try and believe you. But if there is , and if you really and truly meant what you said just now about wanting to help meââ
âOf course, itâs true!â
âThen itâs impossibleâ impossible to help me by keeping anything back.â
The earnestness of her voice would have convinced him even if the facts themselves had not. Naturally, nothing must be kept back. She must know the full extent of the menace, and must be given her chance of clearing out of the studio until the menace was removed. He wondered where she could go. Suppose she had no sanctuary? As this possibility occurred to him, an idea that was perhaps more intriguing than reasonable flashed into his mind. Why not offer her his sisterâs house? Winifred was a good sport. He was certain she would not object, and Miss Wynne would be safe there. Noâwould she? Inspector James had his sisterâs address! Confound Inspector Jamesâwhat a well-meaning nuisance the fellow was!â¦Thus Richard Temperleyâs thoughts raced, tumbling over each other like an eager schoolboyâs.
âYouâre rightâI wonât keep anything back,â he said. âYou ought to know everything. But, first, just one thing. What happened, exactly, when you got back here, and found you had lost your key?â
âDoes that matter?â she asked, frowning.
âVery likely not,â he admitted, âbut it would be nice of you to humour me.â
âVery well. Iâjust couldnât get in.â
âDidnât know youâd lost your bag until that moment, eh?â
âThatâs right. And IâI started back for it. Then I changed my mind.â She had spoken hesitatingly, but now she ran on quickly, as though to avoid being asked why she had changed her mind. âThe back of this studio looks out on another road, you knowâor passage, rather. I knew the window didnât latch properly, so I went round to the back and got in. You saw me do it.â
âYes,â he answered. He refrained from pointing out that she had not accounted fully for her time. After all, was she under any obligation to? âHow do you get round to the back?â he inquired abruptly.
âYou have to go out of the street, and then round.â
âOut of Tail Street?â
âYes.â
âI see. And you didnât meet anyone?â
âNo. Did you ?â
He shook his head. âBut someone seems to have been here before us, just the same. No, I donât mean inside,â he added quickly, in response to her fresh look of alarm. âProbably on the doorstep. When I let myself inâyes, I know it was jolly cool, but I couldnât get any reply to my ringing, and I wanted to make sure that everything was all rightââ He stopped, and watched her rather anxiously. âI found something on the ground.â
âWhat?â
âWell, it was another of those darned little letter Zâs.â
She took it well. He admired her tremendously at that moment. âHow funny,â was all she said.
âA bit odd,â he agreed, grimly. âIt had probably been slipped through the letter-box slit. Anyway, there it wasâand here it is.â He took the unsavoury object from his pocket and held it out. âAnd, if I may offer advice, Miss Wynne,â he concluded, âyouâll give this spot a wide berth for a while, because it doesnât seem any too healthy.â
She did not reply. Was she listening? The momentary
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