CHAPTER 28Philip Jocelyn did not go directly to his own room at the War Office next morning. With the case he had taken home the night before, he made his way along a number of corridors. In the room he entered, Garth Albany sat writing. He looked up, and received a slight shock. Philip never had much colour, but this morning he looked ghastly—skin bloodless, face drawn, every line deepened and emphasised.
He said, “Well?” and was rather horrified when Philip laughed.
“Is it? Perhaps it is. We’ll see—unless she’s been too clever for us. I was doped last night.”
“What!”
Philip gave a casual nod.
“Undoubtedly. Slept like the dead. I’m not really out of it yet, in spite of cold water and the very excellent breakfast coffee which was provided. It’s a pity Miss Annie Joyce is an enemy agen
