“She’ll do that wherever she is. I’m very worried about her, Alleyn. She’s altogether too bright and brave—it’s not natural. Look here—you won’t talk to her about Alf, will you? Keep right off this tragedy if you can. She’s in no state to discuss it with anybody. Last night those damn’ fellows kept her at it for God knows how long. I know that you, as a Yard man, are anxious to learn what you can, and I hope with all my heart that you get the swine; but—don’t worry Carolyn again just yet. She gets quite hysterical at the mention of it. I know I can depend on you?”

“Oh,” said Alleyn vaguely, “I’m very dependable. Here is Miss Dacres.”

Carolyn stepped out of the lift.

She wore a black dress that he had seen before and a black hat with a brim that came down over her face which, as usual, was beautifully made-up. But underneath the make-up he suspected she was very pale, and there was a darkness about her eyes. Carolyn looked a little older, and Alleyn felt a sudden stab of compassion. “That won’t do,” he thought, and started forward to greet her. He was aware that the old lady with the journalistic yashmak had boldly advanced to the plate-glass partition, and that three of the other occupants of the lounge were making hurriedly for the hall.

“Good morning,” said Carolyn. “This is very nice of you.”

“Come out to the car,” said Alleyn. “It is very nice of you.”

He and Hambledon walked out on either side of her. The porter, who had been deep in conversation with the mechanic from the garage, flew to open the door of the car. A number of people seemed to be hanging about on the footpath.

“Thank you,” said Alleyn to the mechanic. “I’m driving myself. Come back at about three, will you? Here you are, Miss Dacres.”

“You’re in a great hurry, both of you,” said Carolyn, as Hambledon slammed the door. Then she saw the little knot of loiterers on the footpath. “I see,” she whispered.

“Good-bye, my dear,” said Hambledon. “Have a lovely drive.”

“Good-bye, Hailey.”

The car shot forward.

“I suppose the paper is full of it,” said Carolyn.

“Not absolutely full. They don’t seem to go in for the nauseating front-page stuff in this country.”

“Wait till the evening papers come out before you’re sure of that.”

“Even they,” said Alleyn, “will probably show a comparative sense of decency. I thought we might drive up to where those mountains begin. They say it’s a good road and I got the people in the hotel to put some lunch in the car.”

“You felt sure I would come?” asked Carolyn.