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"Perhaps he doesn't think us worth bothering about," suggested the young man
simply.
Tuppence received the remark with great disfavour.
"How horrid you are, Tommy. Just as though we didn't count."
"
Sorry, Tuppence. What I meant was that we work like moles in the dark, and
that he has no suspicion of our nefarious schemes. Ha ha!"
"
Ha ha!" echoed Tuppence approvingly, as she rose.
South Audley Mansions was an imposing-looking block of flats just off Park Lane.
No. 20 was on the second floor.
Tommy had by this time the glibness born of practice. He rattled off the formula
to the elderly woman, looking more like a housekeeper than a servant, who
opened the door to him.
"
Christian name?"
Margaret."
"
Tommy spelt it, but the other interrupted him.
"No, G U E."
"
Oh, Marguerite; French way, I see." He paused, then plunged boldly. "We had her
down as Rita Vandemeyer, but I suppose that's incorrect?"
"
She's mostly called that, sir, but Marguerite's her name."
Thank you. That's all. Good morning."
"
Hardly able to contain his excitement, Tommy hurried down the stairs. Tuppence
was waiting at the angle of the turn.
"You heard?"
"Yes. Oh, TOMMY!"
Tommy squeezed her arm sympathetically.
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