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Whittington smiled again.
    â€œParis.”
    â€œOh!” said Tuppence thoughtfully. To herself she said: “Of course, if father heard that he would have a fit! But somehow I don’t see Mr. Whittington in the rôle of the gay deceiver.”
    â€œYes,” continued Whittington. “What could be more delightful? To put the clock back a few years—a very few, I am sure—and re-enter one of those charming pensionnats de jeunes filles with which Paris abounds—”
    Tuppence interrupted him.
    â€œA pensionnat? ”
    â€œExactly. Madame Colombier’s in the Avenue de Neuilly.”
    Tuppence knew the name well. Nothing could have been more select. She had had several American friends there. She was more than ever puzzled.
    â€œYou want me to go to Madame Colombier’s? For how long?”
    â€œThat depends. Possibly three months.”
    â€œAnd that is all? There are no other conditions?”
    â€œNone whatever. You would, of course, go in the character of my ward, and you would hold no communication with your friends. I should have to request absolute secrecy for the time being. By the way, you are English, are you not?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYet you speak with a slight American accent?”
    â€œMy great pal in hospital was a little American girl. I daresay I picked it up from her. I can soon get out of it again.”
    â€œOn the contrary, it might be simpler for you to pass as an American. Details about your past life in England might be more difficult to sustain. Yes, I think that would be decidedly better. Then—”
    â€œOne moment, Mr. Whittington! You seem to be taking my consent for granted.”
    Whittington looked surprised.
    â€œSurely you are not thinking of refusing? I can assure you that Madame Colombier’s is a most high-class and orthodox establishment. And the terms are most liberal.”
    â€œExactly,” said Tuppence. “That’s just it. The terms are almost too liberal, Mr. Whittington. I cannot see any way in which I can be worth that amount of money to you.”
    â€œNo?” said Whittington softly. “Well, I will tell you. I could doubtless obtain someone else for very much less. What I am willing to pay for is a young lady with sufficient intelligence and presence of mind to sustain her part well, and also one who will have sufficient discretion not to ask too many questions.”
    Tuppence smiled a little. She felt that Whittington had scored.
    â€œThere’s another thing. So far there has been no mention of Mr. Beresford. Where does he come in?”
    â€œMr. Beresford?”
    â€œMy partner,” said Tuppence with dignity. “You saw us together yesterday.”
    â€œAh, yes. But I’m afraid we shan’t require his services.”
    â€œThen it’s off!” Tuppence rose. “It’s both or neither. Sorry—but that’s how it is. Good morning, Mr. Whittington.”
    â€œWait a minute. Let us see if something can’t be managed. Sit down again, Miss—” He paused interrogatively.
    Tuppence’s conscience gave her a passing twinge as she remembered the archdeacon. She seized hurriedly on the first name that came into her head.
    â€œJane Finn,” she said hastily; and then paused openmouthed at the effect of those two simple words.
    All the geniality had faded out of Whittington’s face. It was purple with rage, and the veins stood out on the forehead. And behind it all there lurked a sort of incredulous dismay. He leaned forward and hissed savagely:
    â€œSo that’s your little game, is it?”
    Tuppence, though utterly taken aback, nevertheless kept her head. She had not the faintest comprehension of his meaning, but she was naturally quick-witted, and felt it imperative to “keep her end up” as she phrased it.
    Whittington went on:
    â€œBeen playing with me, have you, all the time, like a cat and mouse? Knew all