"Don't know?"

"Yes. Look here." Together they bent over the list. "You see,
very few Christian names are given. They're nearly all Mrs. or
Miss."

Tommy nodded.

"That complicates matters," he murmured thoughtfully.

Tuppence gave her characteristic "terrier" shake.

"Well, we've just got to get down to it, that's all. We'll start
with the London area. Just note down the addresses of any of the
females who live in London or roundabout, while I put on my hat."

Five minutes later the young couple emerged into Piccadilly, and
a few seconds later a taxi was bearing them to The Laurels,
Glendower Road, N.7, the residence of Mrs. Edgar Keith, whose
name figured first in a list of seven reposing in Tommy's
pocket-book.

The Laurels was a dilapidated house, standing back from the road
with a few grimy bushes to support the fiction of a front garden.
Tommy paid off the taxi, and accompanied Tuppence to the front
door bell. As she was about to ring it, he arrested her hand.

"What are you going to say?"

"What am I going to say? Why, I shall say--Oh dear, I don't