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Whittington hurried us off. We thought it was lambs to the slaughter."
"Annette," said Julius. "Is that what you call her?"
His mind seemed to be trying to adjust itself to a new idea.
"It's her name," said Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide.
"Shucks!" retorted Julius. "She may think it's her name, because her memory's
gone, poor kid. But it's the one real and original Jane Finn we've got here."
"
What?" cried Tuppence.
But she was interrupted. With an angry spurt, a bullet embedded itself in the
upholstery of the car just behind her head.
"Down with you," cried Julius. "It's an ambush. These guys have got busy pretty
quickly. Push her a bit, George."
The car fairly leapt forward. Three more shots rang out, but went happily wide.
Julius, upright, leant over the back of the car.
"Nothing to shoot at," he announced gloomily. "But I guess there'll be another
little picnic soon. Ah!"
He raised his hand to his cheek.
"
You are hurt?" said Annette quickly.
Only a scratch."
"
The girl sprang to her feet.
"Let me out! Let me out, I say! Stop the car. It is me they're after. I'm the one they
want. You shall not lose your lives because of me. Let me go." She was fumbling
with the fastenings of the door.
Julius took her by both arms, and looked at her. She had spoken with no trace of
foreign accent.
"Sit down, kid," he said gently. "I guess there's nothing wrong with your memory.
Been fooling them all the time, eh?"
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