"She seems pretty thick with the dobility. Perhaps I'd better give her a chadce of paying?"
I smiled.
"There's boats to France at Dover," said I. "What if she's going over by the night mail?"
He looked at me most shrewdly.
"I can't make you out, Britten," says he; "either you are the greatest fool or the greatest rogue id my ebployment. Subtimes you seeb clever enough, too. Suppose we rud the car over to Dover and see what's doing there."
"Yes," said I, "and you can telephone to the pier at Folkestone to have her stopped if she's sailing from there."
He snapped his fingers and smiled all over his face.
"That's it!" he cried. "If she's leaving the coudtry I'll arrest her. I wish you'd been half as sharp when you picked her up id London."
"It's these motor veils," said I. "You can't expect a man to see through three thicknesses of shuffon—now can you, Mr. Moss?"
It was a lucky shot, and, upon my word, I really do believe that I began to wheedle him, Whether I did, or whether I did not, we had the car upon the road in ten minutes, and were off for Dover before a quarter of an hour had passed. Previous to that I had slipped into the inn on the pretence of leaving my coat, and had left a letter for Miss Dolly to be taken up by Biggs, when he came there to meet me for our evening walk. "Moss is here," I wrote, "look out for yourself."