‘They were taken to the charge-room, and duly charged. The one with blackmail, the other with running a gaming-house. I’ll explain the gaming-house some other time. They are extremely nasty fellows, but if Dimitri hadn’t been quite such a nasty fellow, we wouldn’t have stood as good a chance of scaring him into fits and getting the whole story about Davidson. I gambled on that, and by jingo, Troy, it was a gamble.’

‘What would have happened if Dimitri had kept quiet even though he did think you were going to arrest him for murder?’

‘We would still have arrested him for blackmail, and would have had to plug away at Davidson on what we’d got. But Dimitri saw we had a clear case on the blackmail charge. He’d nothing to gain in protecting Davidson.’

‘Do you think he really knows Davidson did the murder?’

‘I think we shall find that Davidson tried to warn him against collecting Evelyn Carrados’s bag at the ball. Davidson saw Bunchy was with Evelyn, when Bridget returned her bag the first time.’

‘You didn’t tell me about that.’

Alleyn told her about it.

‘And isn’t that really all?’ he asked.

‘Yes. That’s all.’

‘Troy, I love you more than anything in life. I’ve tried humility; God knows, I am humble. And I’ve tried effrontery. If you can’t love me, tell me so, and please let us not meet again because I can’t manage meeting you unless it is to love you.’

Troy raised a white face and looked solemnly at him.

‘I know my mind at last,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t be parked.’

‘Darling, darling Troy.’

‘I do love you. Very much indeed.’

‘Wonder of the world!’ cried Alleyn, and took her in his arms.

EPILOGUE

DOWN A SUN-BAKED MUD TRACK that ran through the middle of the most remote of all the Chinese Medical Mission’s settlements in Northern Manchuria walked a short, plump celestial. He was followed by six yellow urchins upon each of whose faces was an expression of rapt devotion, and liveliest envy. If his face and legs had been visible, it would have been seen that sweat poured down them in runnels. But his face was hidden by a black hat, and his legs by the voluminous folds of a swashbuckling cloak. There was glory in his gait.

In the receiving office of the mission, a jaded young Englishman gazed in perplexity at a telegram a month old. It had been forwarded from the head depot and had done the rounds of most of the settlements. It was from New Scotland Yard, London.

The young Englishman gazed blankly through the open door at the little procession in the sun-baked track outside.