Bundle sat frowning. Seven Dials. Where was that? Some rather slummy district of London, she fancied. The words Seven Dials reminded her of something else, but for the moment she couldn't think of what. Instead her attention fastened on two phrases. "Am feeling awfully fit ..." and "I'm so sleepy I can't keep my eyes open."
That didn't fit in. That didn't fit in at all. For it was that very night that Gerry Wade had taken such a heavy dose of chloral that he never woke again. And if what he had written in that letter was true, why should he have taken it?
Bundle shook her head. She looked round the room and gave a slight shiver. Supposing Gerry Wade were watching her now. In this room he had died...
She sat very still. The silence was unbroken save for the ticking of her little gold clock. That sounded unnaturally loud and important.
Bundle glanced towards the mantelpiece. A vivid picture rose before her mind's eye. The dead man lying on the bed, and seven clocks ticking on the mantelpiece—ticking loudly, ominously ... ticking ... ticking....
Chapter V
The Man in the Road
"Father," said Bundle, opening the door of Lord Caterham's special sanctum and putting her head in, "I'm going up to town in the Hispano. I can't stand the monotony down here any longer."
"We only got home yesterday," complained Lord Caterham.
"I know. It seems like a hundred years. I'd forgotten how dull the country could be."