‘Oh no, nothing much.’
It was evident from her voice that she was trying to make light of a terrible experience. ‘I was frightened more than hurt,’ she said, ‘but it was good to see you. Who are they, George? What are they doing here? What’s it all about?’
Abbershaw covered his face with his hands and groaned in the darkness.
‘I could kick myself,’ he said. ‘It’s all my fault. I did an absurd, a foolhardy, lunatic thing when I destroyed those papers. I didn’t realize whom we were up against.’
The girl caught her breath.
‘Then what you said was true?’ she said. ‘You did destroy what they are looking for?’
‘Yes.’ Abbershaw spoke savagely. ‘I’ve behaved like an idiot all the way through,’ he said. ‘I’ve been too clever by half, and now I’ve got you, of all people – the person I’d rather die than see any harm come to – into this appalling situation. I hit on the truth,’ he went on, ‘but only half of it, and like a fool I acted upon my belief without being sure. Oh, my God, what a fool I’ve been!’
The girl stirred beside him and laid her head on his shoulders, her weight resting in the hollow of his arm. ‘Tell me,’ she said.
Abbershaw was only too glad to straighten out his own thoughts in speech, and he began softly, keeping his voice down lest there should be listeners on the landing behind the bolted door.
‘It was Colonel Coombe’s murder that woke me up,’ he said. ‘And then, when I saw the body and realized that the plate across his face was unneeded and served as a disguise, I realized then that it was crooks we had to deal with, and casting about in my mind I arrived at something – not quite the truth – but very near it.’