He twisted the Napier off to the left down Brompton Road, and pulled up outside the big shop. As we entered through the swinging doors I handed him a bundle of notes.
"Get what you want, Billy," I said, "and shove it in the car. I'll send off the wire."
My message to Maurice, composed after some little deliberation, took the following shape:—
"Don't trouble to meet train. Am motoring down. Arrive dinner.—NORTHCOTE."
Having sent this off, I purchased a good map of Essex and Suffolk at a neighbouring counter, and then set off to find Billy.
I discovered him in the shirt department, laying in an impressive stock of under-clothes, which a sombre assistant was packing away into a large new Gladstone bag.
"Found what you wanted?" I inquired.
Billy nodded. "They're doing their best," he said kindly. "Not quite my usual style, but good enough for the country."
The assistant's face was a study, but we had no time to waste in appreciating it, for there were still various trifles needed, such as a sponge and a tooth-brush, to complete the bag. Having secured these, we returned to the car, and deposited the Gladstone with the rest of the luggage.
Climbing in, Billy took the wheel, and I spread out the map on my knee.