Pett spoke. She spoke excitedly,
in a lowered voice, leaning over to Ann.
"Ann! Did you notice anything? Did you suspect anything?"
Ann mastered her emotion with an effort.
"Whatever do you mean, aunt Nesta?"
"About that young man, who calls himself Jimmy Crocker."
Ann clutched the side of the chair.
"Who calls himself Jimmy Crocker? I don't understand."
Ann tried to laugh. It seemed to her an age before she produced
any sound at all, and when it came it was quite unlike a laugh.
"What put that idea into your head? Surely, if he says he is
Jimmy Crocker, it's rather absurd to doubt him, isn't it? How
could anybody except Jimmy Crocker know that you were anxious to
get Jimmy Crocker over here? You didn't tell any one, did you?"
This reasoning shook Mrs. Pett a little, but she did not intend
to abandon a perfectly good suspicion merely because it began to
seem unreasonable.
"They have their spies everywhere," she said doggedly.
"Who have?"
"The Secret Service people from other countries. Lord Wisbeach
was telling me about it yesterday. He said that I ought to
suspect everybody. He said that an attempt might be made on
Willie's invention at any moment now."
"He was joking."
"He was not. I have never seen any one so serious. He said that I
ought to regard every fresh person who came into the house as a
possible criminal."
"Well, that guy's fresh enough," muttered Ogden from the settee.
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