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unseen opponent, "I don't KNOW that he does. He'd never have dared to say so.
I've always jumped on sentiment--and here I am being more sentimental than
anybody. What idiots girls are! I've always thought so. I suppose I shall sleep with
his photograph under my pillow, and dream about him all night. It's dreadful to
feel you've been false to your principles."
Tuppence shook her head sadly, as she reviewed her backsliding.
"I don't know what to say to Julius, I'm sure. Oh, what a fool I feel! I'll have to say
SOMETHING--he's so American and thorough, he'll insist upon having a reason. I
wonder if he did find anything in that safe----"
Tuppence's meditations went off on another tack. She reviewed the events of last
night carefully and persistently. Somehow, they seemed bound up with Sir
James's enigmatical words....
Suddenly she gave a great start--the colour faded out of her face. Her eyes,
fascinated, gazed in front of her, the pupils dilated.
"
Impossible," she murmured. "Impossible! I must be going mad even to think of
such a thing...."
Monstrous--yet it explained everything....
After a moment's reflection she sat down and wrote a note, weighing each word as
she did so. Finally she nodded her head as though satisfied, and slipped it into
an envelope which she addressed to Julius. She went down the passage to his
sitting-room and knocked at the door. As she had expected, the room was empty.
She left the note on the table.
A small page-boy was waiting outside her own door when she returned to it.
"
Telegram for you, miss."
Tuppence took it from the salver, and tore it open carelessly. Then she gave a cry.
The telegram was from Tommy!
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