II
‘And now, I suppose,’ said Tuppence, ‘we shall never know what any ofit means or what it is all about.’
She shook her head in deep despondency. Rising from her chair, shewent towards the fireplace.
‘Are you trying to put a log on?’ said Tommy. ‘Let me. You’ve been toldnot to move about much.’
‘My arm’s quite all right now,’ said Tuppence. ‘Anyone would think I’dbroken it or something. It was only a nasty scrape or graze.’
‘You have more to boast about than that,’ said Tommy. ‘It was definitelya bullet wound. You have been wounded in war.’
‘War it seems to have been all right,’ said Tuppence. ‘Really!’
‘Never mind,’ said Tommy, ‘we dealt with the Mullins very well, I think.’
‘Hannibal,’ said Tuppence, ‘was a very good dog there, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ said Tommy, ‘he told us. Told us very definitely. He just leapt forthat pampas grass. His nose told him, I suppose. He’s got a wonderfulnose.’
‘I can’t say my nose warned me,’ said Tuppence. ‘I just thought she wasrather an answer to prayer, turning up. And I quite forgot we were onlysupposed to take someone who had worked for Mr Solomon. Did MrCrispin tell you anything more? I suppose his name isn’t really Crispin.’
‘Possibly not,’ said Tommy.
‘Did he come to do some sleuthing too? Too many of us here, I shouldsay.’
‘No,’ said Tommy, ‘not exactly a sleuth. I think he was sent for securitypurposes. To look after you.’
‘To look after me,’ said Tuppence, ‘and you, I should say. Where is henow?’
‘Dealing with Miss Mullins, I expect.’
‘Yes, well, it’s extraordinary how hungry these excitements make one.
Quite peckish, as one might say. Do you know, there’s nothing I can ima-gine I’d like to eat more than a nice hot crab¹ with a sauce made of creamwith just a touch of curry² powder.’
‘You’re well again,’ said Tommy. ‘I’m delighted to hear you feeling likethat about food.’
‘I’ve never been ill,’ said Tuppence. ‘I’ve been wounded. That’s quite dif-ferent.’
‘Well,’ said Tommy, ‘anyway you must have realized as I did that whenHannibal let go all out and told you an enemy was close at hand in thepampas grass, you must have realized that Miss Mullins was the personwho, dressed as a man, hid there and shot at you–’

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