had relied upon Tommy
more than she realized at the time. There was something so eminently
sober and clear-headed about him, his common sense and soundness of
vision were so unvarying, that without him Tuppence felt much like a
rudderless ship. It was curious that Julius, who was undoubtedly much
cleverer than Tommy, did not give her the same feeling of support. She
had accused Tommy of being a pessimist, and it is certain that he
always saw the disadvantages and difficulties which she herself was
optimistically given to overlooking, but nevertheless she had really
relied a good deal on his judgment. He might be slow, but he was very
sure.

It seemed to the girl that, for the first time, she realized the
sinister character of the mission they had undertaken so lightheartedly.
It had begun like a page of romance. Now, shorn of its glamour, it
seemed to be turning to grim reality. Tommy--that was all that mattered.
Many times in the day Tuppence blinked the tears out of her eyes
resolutely. "Little fool," she would apostrophize herself, "don't
snivel. Of course you're fond of him. You've known him all your life.
But there's no need to be sentimental about it."

In the meantime, nothing more was seen of Boris. He did not come to the
flat, and Julius and the car waited in vain. Tuppence gave herself over
to new meditations. Whilst admitting the truth of Julius's objections,
she had nevertheless not entirely relinquished the idea of appealing to
Sir James Peel Edgerton. Indeed, she had gone so far as to look up his
address in the Red Book. Had he meant to warn her that day? If so, why?
Surely she was at least entitled to demand an explanation. He had looked
at her so kindly. Perhaps he might tell them something concerning Mrs.
Vandemeyer which might lead to a clue to Tommy's whereabouts.

Anyway, Tuppence decided, with her usual shake of the shoulders, it was
worth trying, and try it she would. Sunday was her afternoon out. She
would meet Julius, persuade him to her point of view, and they would
beard the lion in his den.

When the day arrived Julius needed a considerable amount of persuading,
but Tuppence held firm. "It can do no harm," was what she always came
back to. In the end Julius gave in, and they proceeded in the car to
Carlton House Terrace.

The door was opened by an irreproachable butler. Tuppence felt a little
nervous. After all, perhaps it WAS colossal cheek on her part. She
had decided not to ask if Si