Margaret caught a swift glimpse of the passenger's face—a man with his head sunk forward between his shoulders.
"Is it far to the Tube?" Margaret asked.
"Straight on—about three hundred yards."
Some forty minutes later Margaret landed, after various changes, at High Street. Kensington, and, leaving the station, walked quickly home to her flat. She had already decided what to do. She might or might not have been pursued, but she would take no further risk.
She mounted swiftly to her flat, unlocked the door, shut it behind her and went straight to the telephone. Her maid was out, and she was quite alone, but that did not matter. She felt safe enough in these neat, familiar surroundings.
First she rang up the Garrick Club. But Sir Henry was not dining there. She then rang up Scotland Yar
