He became silent.
Bobby felt that they were getting nowhere. In his anticipations of this conversation he had talked and Sargon had listened. And there had been no one to overhear. But this was all unexpected. Anyhow, the plan had to be told; Sargon had to be instructed in his part. He glanced warily at the people nearest to them. “There are those among us,” he said quietly and quickly, “who would set you free. I want to tell you—” On the spur of the moment he attempted a code. “When I speak of a city in Central Asia it will mean this place, the Asylum. Do you understand?”
“This place—Central Asia. If I am Sargon.... Everything is possibly something else. But we are still in England nevertheless.”
“In reality. But I want to explain to you.”
“Yes, yes. Explain.”
“I shall speak of great discoveries in Central Asia. That will mean this.”
Did he understand?
“Rescue!” whispered Bobby in Sargon’s ear, and glanced at the attendant and met his eye and was discomposed.
“Tell me about the discoveries,” said Sargon after a little pause as though he had not heard that whispered word.
“It is a symbol for this place,” said Bobby.