TUPPENCE turned
sharply, but the words suspended on the tip of her tongue remained unspoken,
for the man's appearance and manner did not bear out her first and most natural
assumption. She hesitated. As if he read her thoughts, the man said quickly:
"I can
assure you I mean no disrespect."
Tuppence
believed him. Although she disliked and distrusted him instinctively, she was
inclined to acquit him of the particular motive which she had at first
attributed to him. She looked him up and down. He was a big man, clean shaven,
with a heavy jaw. His eyes were small and astute, and shifted their glance
under her direct gaze.
"Well, what
is it?" she asked.
The man smiled.
"I happened
to overhear part of your conversation with the young gentleman in Lyons'."
"Well—what
of it?"
"Nothing—except
that I think I may be of some use to you."
"You
followed me here?"
"I took
that liberty."
"And in
what way do you think you could be of use to me?"
The man took a
card from his pocket and handed it to her with a bow.
Tuppence took it
and scrutinized it carefully. It bore the inscription, "Mr. Edward
Whittington." Below the name were the words "Esthonia Glassware
Co.," and the address of a city office. Mr. Whittington spoke again:
"If you
will call upon me to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, I will lay the details
of my proposition before you."
"At eleven
o'clock?" said Tuppence doubtfully.
"At eleven
o'clock."
Tuppence made up
her mind.
"Very well.
I'll be there."
"Thank you.
Good evening."
He raised his
hat with a flourish, and walked away. Tuppence remained for some minutes gazing
after him. Then she gave a curious movement of her shoulders, rather as a
terrier shakes himself.
"The
adventures have begun," she murmured to herself. "What does he want
me to do, I wonder? There's something about you, Mr. Whittington, that I don't
like at all. But, on the other hand, I'm not the least bit afraid of you. And
as I've said before, and shall doubtless say again, little Tuppence can look
after herself, thank you!"
And with a
short, sharp nod of her head she walked briskly onward. As a result of further
meditations, however, she turned aside from the direct route and entered a post
office. There she pondered for some moments, a telegraph form in her hand. The
thought of a possible five shillings spent unnecessarily spurred her to action, and she decided to risk the waste of
ninepence.
Disdaining the
spiky pen and thick, black treacle which a beneficent Government had provided,
Tuppence drew out Tommy's pencil which she had retained and wrote rapidly:
"Don't put in advertisement. Will explain to-morrow." She addressed
it to Tommy at his club, from which in one short month he would have to resign,
unless a kindly fortune permitted him to renew his subscription.
"It may
catch him," she murmured. "Anyway, it's worth trying."
After handing it
over the counter she set out briskly for home, stopping at a baker's to buy
three penny-worth of new buns.
Later, in her
tiny cubicle at the top of the house she munched buns and reflected on the
future. What was the Esthonia Glassware Co., and what earthly need could it
have for her services? A pleasurable thrill of excitement made Tuppence shiver.
At any rate, the country vicarage had retreated into the background again. The
morrow held possibilities.
It was a long
time before Tuppence went to sleep that night, and, when at length she did, she
dreamed that Mr. Whittington had set her to washing up a pile of Esthonia
Glassware, which bore an unaccountable resemblance to hospital plates!...
Vocabulary
Spurred:
proceeded hurriedly
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