young clerk came out of an office. He hesitated a moment, then
addressed himself to Tuppence.

"Were you wanting the Esthonia Glassware?"

"Yes, please."

"It's closed down. Since yesterday afternoon. Company being
wound up, they say. Not that I've ever heard of it myself. But
anyway the office is to let."

"Th--thank you," faltered Tuppence. "I suppose you don't know
Mr. Whittington's address?"

"Afraid I don't. They left rather suddenly."

"Thank you very much," said Tommy. "Come on, Tuppence."

They descended to the street again where they gazed at one
another blankly.

"That's torn it," said Tommy at length.

"And I never suspected it," wailed Tuppence.

"Cheer up, old thing, it can't be helped."

"Can't it, though!" Tuppence's little chin shot out defiantly.
"Do you think this is the end? If so, you're wrong. It's just
the beginning!"