bilities. Rather than get either of them into trouble I would
cheerfully have thrown myself in front of the next motor bus, but if
such an extreme course could be avoided I certainly had no wish to
end my life in that or any other abrupt fashion until I had had the
satisfaction of a few minutes' quiet conversation with George.
I blamed myself to a certain extent for having given way to Joyce.
Still, I knew her well enough to be sure that if I had persisted in
my refusal she would have stuck to her intention of trying to help me
against my will. That would only have made matters more dangerous for
all of us, so on the whole it was perhaps best that I should go and
see Tommy. I had not the fainest doubt he would be anxious enough to
help me himself if I would let him, but he would at least see the
necessity for keeping Joyce out of the affair. We ought to be able to
manage her between us, though when I remembered the obstinate look in
her eyes I realized that it wouldn't be exactly a simple matter.
I stopped at a book-shop just outside Victoria, which I had noticed on
the previous evening. I wanted to order a copy of a book dealing
with a certain branch of high explosives that I had forgotten to ask
McMurtrie for, and when I had done that I took the opportunity of
buying a couple of novels by Wells which had been published since I
went to prison. Wells was a luxury which the prison library didn't run
to.
With these tucked under my arm, and still pondering over the
unexpected results of my chase after George, I continued my walk to
Edith Terrace. As I reached the house and thrust my key into the
lock the door suddenly opened from the inside, and I found myself
confronted by the apparently rather embarrassed figure of Miss Gertie
'Uggins.
"I 'eard you a-comin'," she observed, rubbing one hand down her leg,
"so I opened the door like."
"That was very charming of you, Gertrude," I said gravely.
She tittered, and then began to retreat slowly backwards down the
passage. "There's a letter for you in the sittin'-room. Come by the
post after you'd gorn. Yer want some tea?"
"I don't mind a cup," I said. "I've been eating and drinking all day;
it seems a pity to give it up now."
"I'll mike yer one," she remarked, nodding her head. "Mrs. Oldbury's
gorn out shoppin'."
She disappeared down the kitchen stairs, and opening the door of my
room I discovered the letter she had referred to stuck up on the
mantelpiece. I
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