II
Tuppence wondered, as she finished her lunch, whether the events ofthe morning would produce any sequel. Would anybody really come to es-cort her this afternoon and take her to the PPC? Was there any such thingreally as the PPC or was it a nickname¹ of some kind that the children hadinvented? Anyway, it might be fun, Tuppence thought, to sit waiting incase someone came.
However, the deputation was punctual to the minute. At half past threethe bell rang, Tuppence rose from her seat by the fire, clapped a hat uponher head–an indiarubber hat because she thought it would probably rain–and Albert appeared to escort² her to the front door.’
‘Not going to let you go with just anyone,’ he breathed into her ear.
‘Look here, Albert,’ whispered Tuppence, ‘is there really such a place asthe PPC here?’
‘I thought that had something to do with visiting cards,’ said Albert, whowas always prone⁴ to show his complete knowledge of social customs. ‘Youknow, what you leave on people when you’re going away or when you’rearriving, I’m not sure which.’
‘I think it’s something to do with pensioners⁵.’
‘Oh yes, they’ve got a sort of a place. Yes. Built just two or three yearsago, I think it was. You know, it’s just down after you pass the rectory andthen you turn right and you see it. It’s rather an ugly building, but it’s nicefor the old folk and any who like can go meeting there. They have gamesand things, and there’s a lot of ladies goes and helps with things. Gets upconcerts and–sort of–well, rather like, you know, Women’s Institute. Onlyit’s specially⁶ for the elderly people. They’re all very, very old, and most ofthem deaf.’
‘Yes,’ said Tuppence, ‘yes. It sounded rather like that.’
The front door opened. Janet, by reason of her intellectual superiority,stood there first. Behind her was Clarence, and behind him was a tall boywith a squint⁷ who appeared to answer to the name of Bert.

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