“Well,” said Mr. Beresford, at length able to relieve his feelings, “what
the–dickens, did you want to take a taxi for?”
“I was afraid I might be late and keep you waiting,” said Tuppence gently.
“Afraid–you–might–be–late! Oh, Lord, I give it up!” said Mr.
Beresford.
“And really and truly,” continued Tuppence, opening her eyes very wide, “I
haven’t got anything smaller than a five-pound note.”
“You did that part of it very well, old bean, but all the same the fellow
wasn’t taken in–not for a moment!”
“No,” said Tuppence thoughtfully, “he didn’t believe it. That’s the curious
part about speaking the truth. No one does believe it. I found that out this
morning. Now let’s go to lunch. How about the Savoy?”
Tommy grinned.
“How about the Ritz?”
“On second thoughts, I prefer the Piccadilly. It’s nearer. We shan’t have
to take another taxi. Come along.”
“Is this a new brand of humour? Or is your brain really unhinged?”
inquired Tommy.
“Your last supposition is the correct one. I have come into money, and the
shock has been too much for me! For that particular form of mental trouble an
eminent physician recommends unlimited Hors d’oeuvre, Lobster a l’americane,
Chicken Newberg, and Peche Melba! Let’s go and get them!”
“Tuppence, old girl, what has really come over you?”
“Oh, unbelieving one!” Tuppence wrenched open her bag. “Look here, and
here, and here!”
“Great Jehosaphat! My dear girl, don’t wave Fishers aloft like that!”
“They’re not Fishers. They’re five times better than Fishers, and this
one’s ten times better!”
Tommy groaned.
“I must have been drinking unawares! Am I dreaming, Tuppence, or do I
really behold a large quantity of five-pound notes being waved about in a
dangerous fashion?”
“Even so, O King! Now, will you come and have lunch?”
“I’ll come anywhere. But what have you been doing? Holding up a bank?”
“All in good time. What an awful place Piccadilly Circus is. There’s a
huge bus bearing down on us. It would be too terrible if they killed the
five-pound notes!”
“Grill room?” inquired Tommy, as they reached the opposite pavement in
safety.
“The other’s more expensive,” demurred Tuppence.
“That’s mere wicked wanton extravagance. Come on below.”
“Are you sure I can get all the things I want there?”
“That extremely unwholesome menu you were outlining just now? Of course you
can–or as much as is good for you, anyway.”
“And now tell me,” said Tommy, unable to restrain his pent-up curiosity any
longer, as they sat in state surrounded by the many hors d’oeuvre of Tuppence’s
dreams.
Miss Cowley told him.
“And the curious part of it is,” she ended, “that I really did invent the
name of Jane Finn! I didn’t want to give my own because of poor father–in case
I should get mixed up in anything shady.”
“Perhaps that’s so,” said Tommy slowly. “But you didn’t invent it.”
“What?”
“No. I told it to you. Don’t you remember, I said yesterday I’d overheard
two people talking about a female called Jane Finn? That’s what brought the
name into your mind so pat.”
“So you did. I remember now. How extraordinary—-” Tuppence tailed off
into silence. Suddenly she aroused herself. “Tommy!”
“Yes?”
“What were they like, the two men you passed?”
Tommy frowned in an effort at remembrance.
“One was a big fat sort of chap. Clean shaven, I think–and dark.”
“That’s him,” cried Tuppence, in an ungrammatical squeal. “That’s
Whittington! What was the other man like?”
“I can’t remember. I didn’t notice him particularly. It was really the
outlandish name that caught my attention.”
“And people say that coincidences don’t happen!” Tuppence tackled her Peche
Melba happily.
But Tommy had become serious.
“Look here, Tuppence, old girl, what is this going to lead to?”
“More money,” replied his companion.
“I know that. You’ve only got one idea in your head. What I mean is, what
about the next step? How are you going to keep the game up?”
“Oh!” Tuppence laid down her spoon. “You’re right, Tommy, it is a bit of
a poser.”
“After all, you know, you can’t bluff him forever. You’re sure to slip up
sooner or later. And, anyway, I’m not at all sure that it isn’t