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breakfast. At ten o'clock hope deserted him, and he flung himself on the bed to

seek consolation in sleep. In five minutes his woes were forgotten.

The sound of the key turning in the lock awoke him from his slumbers. Not

belonging to the type of hero who is famous for awaking in full possession of his

faculties, Tommy merely blinked at the ceiling and wondered vaguely where he

was. Then he remembered, and looked at his watch. It was eight o'clock.

It's either early morning tea or breakfast," deduced the young man, "and pray

God it's the latter!"

The door swung open. Too late, Tommy remembered his scheme of obliterating

the unprepossessing Conrad. A moment later he was glad that he had, for it was

not Conrad who entered, but a girl. She carried a tray which she set down on the

table.

In the feeble light of the gas burner Tommy blinked at her. He decided at once

that she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her hair was a full

rich brown, with sudden glints of gold in it as though there were imprisoned

sunbeams struggling in its depths. There was a wild-rose quality about her face.

Her eyes, set wide apart, were hazel, a golden hazel that again recalled a memory

of sunbeams.

A delirious thought shot through Tommy's mind.

Are you Jane Finn?" he asked breathlessly.

The girl shook her head wonderingly.

My name is Annette, monsieur."

She spoke in a soft, broken English.

Oh!" said Tommy, rather taken aback. "Francaise?" he hazarded.

Oui, monsieur. Monsieur parle francais?"

Not for any length of time," said Tommy. "What's that? Breakfast?"

The girl nodded. Tommy dropped off the bed and came and inspected the

contents of the tray. It consisted of a loaf, some margarine, and a jug of coffee.

149

The Secret Adversary