“True,” he said. “I only thought—”
But a knocking at the terrace door interrupted him. While the attention of the others was turned in that direction Dale, less cynical than her aunt, made a small plea to him and realized before she had finished with it that the Doctor too had his price.
“Doctor—did you get it?” she repeated, drawing the Doctor aside.
The Doctor gave her a look of apparent bewilderment.
“My dear child,” he said softly, “are you sure that you put it there?”
Dale felt as if she had received a blow in the face.
“Why, yes—I—” she began in tones of utter dismay. Then she stopped. The Doctor’s seeming bewilderment was too pat—too plausible. Of course she was sure—and, though possible, it seemed extremely unlikely that anyone else could have discovered the hiding-place of the blue-print in the few moments that had elapsed between the time when Billy took the tray from the room and the time when the Doctor ostensibly went to find it. A cold wave of distrust swept over her—she turned away from the Doctor silently.
Meanwhile Anderson had entered, slamming the terrace-door behind him.
“I couldn’t find anybody!” he said in an irritated voice. “I think that Jap’s crazy.”
The Doctor began to struggle into his topcoat, avoiding any look at Dale.