"Which you can't see," snapped H.M, "until you take it out of the clock." Lady's Brayle's whole manner and tone altered again.
"For God's sake," she pleaded, "and for the sake of old friendship, let the dead rest! You don't know how horrible it is!"
You dont…" -
"MacDougall's signalling," Masters reported, stolidly but with quicker breathing. "It's the left arm for X? Oh, ah!" He lifted his left arm and waved it A pause. "Card's up. It's number 7." From the window-seat Masters picked up a typewritten sheet of paper. "It's the Mirror Maze, all right Nobody made any mistake. X is the Mirror Maze."
"So!" grunted H.M., throwing his cigar out of the window. "And pretty near on time, too. Looky here: where's young Drake? He ought to be with us."
"How should I know where he is?" demanded Masters "I told you he went charging out of here, looking for you, not two minutes before you got here! I dont know where. The young lady just pointed to some number on the list and out he went"
"But it was there!" exclaimed Jenny. "The Mirror Maze!"
"Oh, lord love a duck." H.M.'s mouth fell open. "This is bad, Masters. This is bad."
"Eh? What's up?"
"You know what might happen," said H.M. cryptically, "if our dewy-eyed innocent meets the wrong man in that ruddy maze. Masters, come on!"