They had heard nothing, seen nothing. He might solve the riddle. "It's more than I am," muttered Thames. " "By the way, did you read those stories?" "Yes. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. We are alone and we can say and do what we please. ” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. The change in her face was not a pleasant one. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. So there is no escape.
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