"Let me know the worst. Have I—er—have I got to give advice to anybody?"
"No."
There was one other point that had to be settled. I leant across the table anxiously.
"Have I got to ring anybody up on the telephone?" I asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Oh, nothing like that at all," said Miss Middleton.
"Dash it," I cried, "then of course I'll do anything for you. What is it? Somebody you want killed? I could kill a mayor to-day."
Miss Middleton was silent for a moment while allowing herself to be helped to fish. When the waiters had moved away, "We are having a jumble sale," she announced.
I shook my head at her.
"Your life," I said, "is one constant round of gaiety."
"And I thought as I was coming to London I'd mention it to you. Because you're always saying you don't know what to do with your old things."