She read the message in a sort of suspended silence that was peculiarly intense.
“I am in need of secretarial help if you care to resume your position here as a temporary measure. Please come to-night or wire. Rotherby. The Palace. Burminster.”
A voice out of the void! A forgotten voice, but none the less clear! She looked up as it were through thinning mists and saw the boy’s bright eyes watching her. Why was he interested, she wondered? What could it matter to him?
“Any answer, miss?” he suggested helpfully, and now she saw a gleam in the little rat-keen eyes and understood.
“No, none,” she said, “none. I shall answer it in person.”
He looked pinched for a moment, and then he grinned cheerily, impudently, philosophically.
“That’s right, miss,” he said. “Don’t you lose no more time about it! Time’s money to most of us.”
And with that he turned to go, but sharply, on impulse, she stayed him. “Boy, wait!”
He waited at once. “Yes, miss? Anything I can do for you?”
“No, nothing,” she said, “nothing. You have already done—much more than you know.” She pushed a hand down into the pocket of her rain-coat and found a halfpenny that had been there ever since the coat had been new. “I’ve carried this for luck,” she said, and managed to smile. “It’s all I can offer you. Will you have it?”