Joyce, who had listened to me without interrupting, nodded her head. "It was just one of those things that had got to happen," she said philosophically. "It's no good worrying now. The thing is, what are we to do about it?"
I thought for a moment.
"We must let Latimer know at once," I said. "I'll write out what Sonia told me—just the main facts, and you must take the letter straight up to London, and find him as soon as you can. I shall stop here, as he asked me to."
Joyce's face looked a little troubled.
"What do you think Sonia will do?" she asked.
"Goodness knows!" I said. "She seemed to have some particularly unpleasant intention at the back of her mind; but I don't quite see what it is."
"She won't care what she does," said Joyce. "I know exactly how she feels. Suppose she were to go to the police?"
"She could hardly do that," I objected. "She'd be incriminating herself."
"But suppose she does," persisted Joyce. "Suppose they come and arrest you here; Latimer won't be able to help you then."
"I can't go back now, Joyce," I said seriously. "I can't get out of it just because it might be dangerous to me. After all, it's England they're scheming against."