flat where you are. Promise me you will, Neil. You see if the
police once got hold of you, even Latimer mightn't be able to do
anything."

For a moment I hesitated. So far I had told Joyce nothing of the wild
suspicion about Marks's identity which Sonia's revelations had put
into my head. I didn't want to rouse hopes in her which might turn out
quite baseless. Besides, even if I were really on the right track, and
Marks was the man who had betrayed the gang in St. Petersburg, it was
quite another thing to prove that they were responsible for splitting
his skull. I had nothing to support the idea beyond Joyce's bare
word that she had seen McMurtrie in the flat on the afternoon of the
murder. Sonia's testimony might have been useful, but after today I
could hardly picture her in the witness-box giving evidence on my
behalf.

On the whole, therefore, I thought it best for the present to keep
the matter to myself. I promised, however, that in the event of my
observing anything in the nature of a policeman stealthily approaching
the hut I would at once seek sanctuary on the _Betty_--an assurance
which might have sounded worthless to some people, but certainly
seemed to comfort Joyce.

Anyhow she said good-bye to me with her usual cheerfulness and pluck,
and we parted after a last affectionate kiss in full view of the open
marsh. Then I returned to the hut suffering from that novel and highly
unpleasant sense of loneliness that Joyce's departures had begun to
awake in me.

I don't think there is anything much more trying to one's nerves than
having to sit and wait for some critical event which may happen at any
moment. I have had a good deal of practice at waiting in my life, but
I never remember the hours dragging so desperately slowly as they did
the remainder of that afternoon.

A dozen times I went over what Latimer and Sonia had told me, putting
together their different stories in my mind and trying to think if
there was any point I had overlooked. I could see none. The mere way
in which they had corroborated each other was enough to make me feel
sure that they were both speaking the truth. Besides, everything that
had happened from the moment I had crept in through the kitchen window
at McMurtrie's house pointed to the same conclusion.

I may appear stupid not to have seen through the doctor earlier, but
after all a gang of professional spies is hardly the sort of thing one
expects to run up against in a Devons