II
“So you see, Tuppence, it would all fit in.”
Tuppence nodded thoughtfully. The beach around them was empty. Sheherself leaned against a breakwater, Tommy sat above her and the break-water itself, from which post he could see anyone who approached alongthe esplanade. Not that he expected to see anyone, having ascertainedwith a fair amount of accuracy where people would be this morning. Inany case his rendezvous¹ with Tuppence had borne all the signs of a casualmeeting, pleasurable to the lady and slightly alarming to himself.
Tuppence said:
“Mrs. Perenna?”
“Yes. M not N. She satisfies the requirements.”
Tuppence nodded thoughtfully again.
“Yes. She’s Irish—as spotted² by Mrs. O’Rourke—won’t admit the fact.
Has done a good deal of coming and going on the Continent. Changed hername to Perenna, came here and started this boardinghouse. A splendidbit of camouflage³, full of innocuous bores. Her husband was shot as atraitor—she’s got every incentive⁴ for running a Fifth Column show in thiscountry. Yes, it fits. Is the girl in it too, do you think?”
Tommy said finally:
“Definitely not. She’d never have told me all this otherwise. I—I feel abit of a cad, you know.”
Tuppence nodded with complete understanding.
“Yes, one does. In a way it’s a foul⁵ job, this.”
“But very necessary.”
“Oh, of course.”
Tommy said, flushing slightly:
“I don’t like lying any better than you do—”
Tuppence interrupted him.
“I don’t mind lying in the least. To be quite honest I get a lot of artisticpleasure out of my lies. What gets me down is those moments when oneforgets to lie—the times when one is just oneself—and gets results thatway that you couldn’t have got any other.” She paused and went on:
“That’s what happened to you last night—with the girl. She responded tothe real you—that’s why you feel badly about it.”
“I believe you’re right, Tuppence.”
“I know. Because I did the same thing myself—with the German boy.”

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