“Victoria Station. The Brighton platform.”
V
Was she Santa? The voice had sounded different, yet, had his life depended on it, he could not have decided. There was only one way of finding out—by joining her on the Brighton platform. This would mean missing his appointment at the Foreign Office. He was prepared to make the sacrifice, but he had no guarantee that the chase would end there. It was possible that she would still refuse to satisfy his curiosity and compel him to accompany her further. His rôle was that of the incautious fly. But who was the master-spinner of this web in which it was intended that he should become entangled? Was it the Little Grandmother? He had asked her whether they would meet again. In the light of present happenings, her answer took on a sinister meaning, “Will you want to to-morrow?”
As he stood there in the sunshine of the Mall, with the thud of fashionable equipages flashing by, a sullen conviction grew up within him that he was becoming afraid. An empty taxi hove in sight. He beckoned. Before it had halted, he was standing on the running-board.
“To Victoria Station. The Brighton platform.” The driver took his brevity for a sign that a train was to be caught by the narrowest of margins. He made such speed that they drew up against the curb just as the widow's vehicle was departing. She threw him a furtive glance from behind her veil, then turned and moved away as though he were the completest stranger. Imitating her discretion, he followed at a distance.
Halting before the ticket-office, she produced her purse. He edged nearer; it was necessary that he should learn her destination.
“A first-class single to Seafold,” he heard her say.
When his turn came, he repeated her words, adding: “How long before it starts?”
“Five minutes,” the clerk told him.
As he gathered up his change, he was surprised to observe how little was left out of his pound. He had supposed Seafold would prove to be a suburb. By the cost of his ticket he estimated that it must be a journey of at least sixty miles. Was it worth the taking? Could he return that same evening? He might get stranded. If that happened, he was unprepared to spend the night. These considerations were swept aside when he noticed that the widow had once more vanished.