Tuppence's spirits rose mercurially. Mr. Carter's warnings
passed unheeded. The young lady had far too much confidence in
herself to pay any heed to them.

With some reluctance she abandoned the interesting part she had
sketched out for herself. Although she had no doubts of her own
powers to sustain a role indefinitely, she had too much common
sense not to recognize the force of Mr. Carter's arguments.

There was still no word or message from Tommy, but the morning
post brought a somewhat dirty postcard with the words: "It's
O.K." scrawled upon it.

At ten-thirty Tuppence surveyed with pride a slightly battered
tin trunk containing her new possessions. It was artistically
corded. It was with a slight blush that she rang the bell and
ordered it to be placed in a taxi. She drove to Paddington, and
left the box in the cloak room. She then repaired with a handbag
to the fastnesses of the ladies' waiting-room. Ten minutes later
a metamorphosed Tuppence walked demurely out of the station and
entered a bus.

It was a few minutes past eleven when Tuppence again entered the
hall of South Audley Mansions. Albert was on the look-out,
attending to his duties in a somewhat desultory fashion. He did
not immediately recognize Tuppence. When he did, his admiration
was unbounded.

"Blest if I'd have known you! That rig-out's top-hole."