from South Audley Mansions, well pleased with her morning’s work.
But there was no time to be lost. She went straight back to the Ritz and
wrote a few brief words to Mr. Carter. Having dispatched this, and Tommy not
having yet returned–which did not surprise her–she started off on a shopping
expedition which, with an interval for tea and assorted creamy cakes, occupied
her until well after six o’clock, and she returned to the hotel jaded, but
satisfied with her purchases. Starting with a cheap clothing store, and passing
through one or two second-hand establishments, she had finished the day at a
well-known hairdresser’s. Now, in the seclusion of her bedroom, she unwrapped
that final purchase. Five minutes later she smiled contentedly at her reflection
in the glass. With an actress’s pencil she had slightly altered the line of her
eyebrows, and that, taken in conjunction with the new luxuriant growth of fair
hair above, so changed her appearance that she felt confident that even if she
came face to face with Whittington he would not recognize her. She would wear
elevators in her shoes, and the cap and apron would be an even more valuable
disguise. From hospital experience she knew only too well that a nurse out of
uniform is frequently unrecognized by her patients.
“Yes,” said Tuppence aloud, nodding at the pert reflection in the glass,
“you’ll do.” She then resumed her normal appearance.
Dinner was a solitary meal. Tuppence was rather surprised at Tommy’s
non-return. Julius, too, was absent–but that to the girl’s mind was more easily
explained. His “hustling” activities were not confined to London, and his abrupt
appearances and disappearances were fully accepted by the Young Adventurers as
part of the day’s work. It was quite on the cards that Julius P. Hersheimmer had
left for Constantinople at a moment’s notice if he fancied that a clue to his
cousin’s disappearance was to be found there. The energetic young man had
succeeded in making the lives of several Scotland Yard men unbearable to them,
and the telephone girls at the Admiralty had learned to know and dread the
familiar “Hullo!” He had spent three hours in Paris hustling the Prefecture,
and had returned from there imbued with the idea, possibly inspired by a weary
French official, that the true clue to the mystery was to be found in Ireland.
“I dare say he’s dashed off there now,” thought Tuppence. “All very well,
but this is very dull for ME! Here I am bursting with news, and absolutely no
one to tell it to! Tommy might have wired, or something. I wonder where he is.
Anyway, he can’t have ‘lost the trail’ as they say. That reminds me—-” And
Miss Cowley broke off in her meditations, and summoned a small boy.
Ten minutes later the lady was ensconced comfortably on her bed, smoking
cigarettes and deep in the perusal of Garnaby Williams, the Boy Detective,
which, with other threepenny works of lurid fiction, she had sent out to
purchase. She felt, and rightly, that before the strain of attempting further
intercourse with Albert, it would be as well to fortify herself with a good
supply of local colour.
The morning brought a note from Mr. Carter:
“DEAR MISS TUPPENCE,
“You have made a splendid start, and I congratulate you. I feel, though,
that I should like to point out to you once more the risks you are running,
especially if you pursue the course you indicate. Those people are absolutely
desperate and incapable of either mercy or pity. I feel that you probably
underestimate the danger, and therefore warn you again that I can promise you no
protection. You have given us valuable information, and if you choose to
withdraw now no one could blame you. At any rate, think the matter over well
before you decide.
“If, in spite of my warnings, you make up your mind to go through with it,
you will find everything arranged. You have lived for two years with Miss
Dufferin, The Parsonage, Llanelly, and Mrs. Vandemeyer can apply to her for a
reference.
“May I be permitted a word or two of advice? Stick as near to the truth as