There was a long silence.
She asked: "You think he'll do that, Mr. Frewin?"
"I don't know. But if he doesn't— —"
They looked at each other.
The telephone bell rang.
Frewin picked up the receiver. He said: "Yes, yes... in three hours..."
He hung up the receiver. He looked at her. He said: "Can you guess who?"
She smiled at him; then she nodded her head.
Frewin thought that there was some indefinable quality about Antoinette Brown— a quality he could not quite place— something which eluded him. He looked at her for a long time.
She sat motionless and relaxed. Her face was placid and, from the angle from which he looked at her, Frewin could see the clean-cut line of her jaw and the sensitive outline of her nostrils. He thought that one of these fine days he must find out all about he
