ook-out for
Joyce. She had not said in her letter what time she would arrive, but
I knew that there were a couple of trains early in the afternoon, and
I remembered that I had told her to come straight to the hut.

It must have been getting on for two when I suddenly caught sight of
a motor car with a solitary occupant coming quickly along the Tilbury
road. It pulled up as it reached the straggling plantation opposite
the hut, and a minute later a girl appeared from between the trees,
and started to walk towards me across the marsh.

I was a little surprised, for I didn't know that Joyce included motor
driving amongst her other accomplishments, and she had certainly never
mentioned to me that there was any chance of her coming down in a
car. Then, a moment later, the truth suddenly hit me with paralysing
abruptness. It was not Joyce at all; it was Sonia.

I don't know why the discovery should have given me such a shock, for
in a way I had been expecting her to turn up any time. Still a shock
it undoubtedly did give me, and for a second or so I stood there
staring stupidly at her like a man who has suddenly lost the use of
his limbs. Then, pulling myself together, I turned away from the
window and strode to the door.

She came up to me swiftly and eagerly, moving with that strange lissom
grace that always reminded me of some untamed animal. Her hurried walk
across the marsh had brought a faint tinge of colour into the usual
ivory clearness of her skin, and her dark eyes were alive with
excitement.

I held out my hands to welcome her. "I was beginning to think you'd
forgotten the address, Sonia," I said.

With that curious little deep laugh of hers she pulled my arms round
her, and for several seconds we remained standing in this friendly
if a trifle informal attitude. Then, perceiving no reasonable
alternative, I bent down and kissed her.

"Ah!" she whispered. "At last! At last!"

Deserted as the marsh was, it seemed rather public for this type of
dialogue, so drawing her inside the hut I closed the door.

She looked round at everything with rapid, eager interest. "I have
heard all about the powder," she said. "It's quite true, isn't it? You
have done what you hoped to do?"

I nodded. "I've blown up about twenty yards of Canvey Island with a
few ounces of it," I said. "That seems good enough for a start."

She laughed again with a sort of fierce satisfaction. "You have done
something more than that. You hav