“So she did,” replied Blaise. “Why? Have you any objection?”—smiling.
“No. Only”—Nick frowned—“I don’t quite understand it Judith isn’t on the Moor.”
“Not on the Moor?” broke simultaneously from Lady Anne and Blaise.
“How do you know, Nick?” added the latter gravely.
“Why, because”—Nick’s face wore an expression of puzzled concern—“because I saw Judith in Newton Abbot late this evening.”
Blaise leaned forward, a sudden look of concentration on his face.
“You saw Judith?” he repeated. “What time?”
“It must have been nearly eight o’clock. I was buzzing along in Jim Cresswell’s car to catch the seven forty-five up train, and I saw Judith with one of the Holfords—you know, those people from London—turning into the gateway of a house. I expect it was the place the Holfords are stopping at. They didn’t see me.”
“You’re quite certain? You’ve made no mistake?” said Blaise sharply.
“Of course I’ve made no mistake. Think I don’t know Judy when I see her? But what’s the meaning of it, Blaise?”