Mary's heart bounded with delight. Ratnadatta's attack on her had dissipated the effects of the aphrodisiac. She no longer wanted any man, and certainly not this hulking American. He too was a Satanist and, apparently, a white-slaver into the bargain. How she could ever have thought of him as a lover she could not now imagine. He might have a fine body, but like the others his mind must be a sink of iniquity. When he had dropped her she would wait for ten minutes in the hall of the house, then go out, get a taxi and drive straight to Colonel Verney's. She should be with him shortly after half past ten. If he was at home he would soon get things moving. If not, she would go on to Scotland Yard. One way or another, by midnight she would pull off the great coup she had visualized earlier. Ratnadatta, Abaddon, Honorius, the whole of this evil murderous crew, would be flung handcuffed into police vans.

'Where d'you live?' asked her companion.

She told him, and he said: 'I'm acquainted with the Cromwell Road, but not sure how best to get to it from here. Can you guide me?'

'Yes,' she breathed, trying to keep the excitement she felt from being noticeable in her voice. 'Take the next turning to the left. That will bring us to the Fulham Road. We cross it and go straight on through the Boltons.'

The car ran smoothly on. As they approached the Fulham Road he said: 'About the morning. You'll not take a run-out powder on me, will you?'

'Of course not!' In order to dispel any doubts he might have, she managed to raise a laugh and, quite unscrupulously, went on to lie to him. 'A fortnight ago I picked you out as just the boy-friend I've always wanted. I bet you are wonderful as a lover. How I wish you hadn't got to go back there, so that it could be tonight.'

Two minutes later they were running along the right side of the oval garden on to which the houses in the Boltons faced. When they reached its far end, instead of steering the car into Gilston Road he swung it round so that it headed back down the other side of the oval.

'Hi!' she exclaimed. 'What are you doing? This isn't the way.'

'Sure it's not,' he grunted. 'But I've been thinking. By sacrificing something more acceptable than a ram, and by delivering you back to Abaddon tomorrow, I could put myself right for cutting tonight's fiesta. And that's the way I've decided to play it.'

'Where . . .' she gasped, all her fears rushing back on her. 'Where are you taking me?'

'Down to the country. I'm stationed near Cambridge, but I don't live in camp. I've hired me a grand little maison with everything that opens and shuts. We'll be there by a half after eleven, and you've hit the jack-pot with your wish. I mean to give you the night of your life.'