only course I can suggest, and I must confess I do not hope for much result.
Otherwise there is nothing to be done.”
“Nothing?” said Tuppence blankly. “And–Tommy?”
“We must hope for the best,” said Sir James. “Oh yes, we must go on
hoping.”
But over her downcast head his eyes met Julius’s, and almost imperceptibly
he shook his head. Julius understood. The lawyer considered the case hopeless.
The young American’s face grew grave. Sir James took Tuppence’s hand.
“You must let me know if anything further comes to light. Letters will
always be forwarded.”
Tuppence stared at him blankly.
“You are going away?”
“I told you. Don’t you remember? To Scotland.”
“Yes, but I thought—-” The girl hesitated.
Sir James shrugged his shoulders.
“My dear young lady, I can do nothing more, I fear. Our clues have all
ended in thin air. You can take my word for it that there is nothing more to be
done. If anything should arise, I shall be glad to advise you in any way I
can.”
His words gave Tuppence an extraordinarily desolate feeling.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Anyway, thank you very much for
trying to help us. Good-bye.”
Julius was bending over the car. A momentary pity came into Sir James’s
keen eyes, as he gazed into the girl’s downcast face.
“Don’t be too disconsolate, Miss Tuppence,” he said in a low voice.
“Remember, holiday-time isn’t always all playtime. One sometimes manages to put
in some work as well.”
Something in his tone made Tuppence glance up sharply. He shook his head
with a smile.
“No, I shan’t say any more. Great mistake to say too much. Remember that.
Never tell all you know–not even to the person you know best. Understand?
Good-bye.”
He strode away. Tuppence stared after him. She was beginning to understand
Sir James’s methods. Once before he had thrown her a hint in the same careless
fashion. Was this a hint? What exactly lay behind those last brief words? Did
he mean that, after all, he had not abandoned the case; that, secretly, he would
be working on it still while—-
Her meditations were interrupted by Julius, who adjured her to “get right
in.”
“You’re looking kind of thoughtful,” he remarked as they started off. “Did
the old guy say anything more?”
Tuppence opened her mouth impulsively, and then shut it again. Sir James’s
words sounded in her ears: “Never tell all you know–not even to the person you
know best.” And like a flash there came into her mind another memory. Julius
before the safe in the flat, her own question and the pause before his reply,
“Nothing.” Was there really nothing? Or had he found something he wished to
keep to himself? If he could make a reservation, so could she.
“Nothing particular,” she replied.
She felt rather than saw Julius throw a sideways glance at her.
“Say, shall we go for a spin in the park?”
“If you like.”
For a while they ran on under the trees in silence. It was a beautiful
day. The keen rush through the air brought a new exhilaration to Tuppence.
“Say, Miss Tuppence, do you think I’m ever going to find Jane?”
Julius spoke in a discouraged voice. The mood was so alien to him that
Tuppence turned and stared at him in surprise. He nodded.
“That’s so. I’m getting down and out over the business. Sir James to-day
hadn’t got any hope at all, I could see that. I don’t like him–we don’t gee
together somehow–but he’s pretty cute, and I guess he wouldn’t quit if there
was any chance of success–now, would he?”
Tuppence felt rather uncomfortable, but clinging to her belief that Julius
also had withheld something from her, she remained firm.
“He suggested advertising for the nurse,” she reminded him.
“Yes, with a ‘forlorn hope’ flavour to his voice! No–I’m about fed up.
I’ve half a mind to go back to the States right away.”
“Oh no!” cried Tuppence. “We’ve got to find Tommy.”
“I sure forgot Beresford,” said Julius contritely. “That’s so. We must
find him. But after–well, I’ve been day-dreaming ever since I started on this
trip–and these dreams are rotten poor business. I’m quit of them. Say, Miss