“Never mind now. You can explain later. Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“That’s right! Then listen to me, and give your answers in monosyllables. I will spell any names you miss, if you ask me to repeat. Don’t attempt to pronounce them yourself, but write them down in a note-book. There must be no mistake. Are you ready?”
“One moment.” Juliet had no note-book, but a search in her bag found a pencil and the blank page of a letter. “Ready!”
“You are ready to write instructions? I have been keeping over a case until your arrival, as it seemed in your line. It is urgent. Nice people. Comfortable surroundings. You would stay in the house as a guest. Can you go on first thing to-morrow?”
For one second, barely a second, Juliet hesitated; then the answer came, short and sharp:
“I can!”
“That’s good! Go to the station to-day, and look up your route. There will be several changes. Have you your pencil? Write down ‘Maplestone—Antony Maplestone.’ Have you got it? ‘The Low House.’ L-o-w. ‘Nunkton.’ N-u-n-k-t-o-n. ‘Great Morley.’ ‘Maplestone, The Low House, Nunkton, Great Morley.’ Have you got that? Go on to-morrow by the first train. I will wire to Mr Maplestone to expect you. He will explain the case. Are you all right for money? Take your best clothes, as for a country visit. Report to me in the course of a week. Do your best. Good chance for you. (Yes, I’ve nearly finished. I’ve not had my three minutes.) You understand, Miss White? You quite understand?”
“I quite understand,” said Juliet, and sat down heavily on the chair beside the receiver.
How had it happened? How much was she to blame? From the moment of that first interruption it seemed as if she had had no chance to explain. Without any preconceived intention of taking the injured girl’s place, she had done so, as it were, without volition of her own. The spirit of adventure, so long nourished, had grasped at the opportunity, before the slower brain had had time to decide on its action.