The train drew in just ten minutes late. Everybody tumbled out on the platform and began walking up and down feverishly. I had no difficulty in espying Pagett. I accosted him eagerly. He gave his usual nervous start at seeing me—somewhat accentuated this time.
“Dear me, Miss Beddingfeld, I understood that you had disappeared.”
“I have reappeared again,” I told him solemnly. “And how are you, Mr. Pagett?”
“Very well, thank you—looking forward to taking up my work again with Sir Eustace.”
“Mr. Pagett,” I said, “there is something I want to ask you. I hope that you won’t be offended, but a lot hangs on it, more than you can possibly guess. I want to know what you were doing at Marlow on the 8th of January last?”
He started violently.
“Really, Miss Beddingfeld—I—indeed——”
“You were there, weren’t you?”
“I—for reasons of my own I was in the neighbourhood, yes.”
“Won’t you tell me what those reasons were?”