Buffy Thompson came in; tall, bustling, his hair in all its native fuzz and his eyes dancing. He began a torrent of questions. But Blagden stopped him with a question that made him gape.
“You haven’t told any one that I’m back?”
“No.... No one—but why the Hell you....”
“Well: don’t tell any one. Martin’s got those orders. I’ve the very best reasons. It won’t last long. But it’s absolutely essential. Have you got that?”
Buffy Thompson was unused to the American phrase.
“Got what?” he asked.
“I mean, will you promise?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then we’ll talk.”