"Westminster Abbey, sir," answered the man.
I laughed. It seemed rather comic. But every one else regarded it as the most natural thing in the world. Jaffery frowned on me.
"I see nothing to laugh at. She was obeying instructions—covering up her tracks. When she got to Westminster she told the driver to cross the bridge—and what railway station is the other end of the bridge?"
"Waterloo," said I.
"And from Waterloo the train goes to Southampton, and from Southampton the boat leaves for Havre. There's nothing funny, believe me."
I said no more.
The porter was dismissed. Jaffery drew the letter from his pocket.
"On the other hand she was in London yesterday afternoon in this district, for here is the 5:45 postmark."
"Oh, I posted that letter," said Mrs. Jardine.
"You?" cried Jaffery. He slapped his thigh. "I said there was something fishy about it."