"Not exactly. I'm on the track of something, I think."
"I don't think so," she said slowly. "If it were just fun, I'd do it like a shot. But when it means something I don't know for someone I've never met — you see?"
"I say, I can't tell you about it, but if I give you my word that you'll never regret it, will you believe me and come?"
"But why should I believe you?" she said sweetly.
The inspector was rather staggered. He had commended her lack of faith in Lamont, but her logical application of it to himself disconcerted him.
"I don't know why," he admitted. "I sup-pose police officers are just as capable of fibbing as any one."
"And considerably more unscrupulous than most," she added dryly.
"Well, it's just a matter for your own decision, then. You won't regret coming. I'll swear to that, if you like — and police officers are not given to perjury, however unscrupulous they may be."
She laughed. "That got you, didn't it?" she said delightedly. And after a pause, "Yes, I'll come and be your cousin with pleasure. None of my cousins are half as good-looking." But the mockery in her tone was too apparent for Grant to find much pleasure in the compliment.
They went down through the green countryside to the sea, however, in perfect amity, and when Grant looked up suddenly and saw the downs he was surprised. There they stood in possession of the landscape, like some one who has tiptoed into a room unheard, and startles the occupant by appearing in the middle of the floor. He had never known a journey to the south coast pass so quickly. They were alone in the compartment, and he proceeded to give her her bearings.