Do you think you could
give me just a vague outline of your plans?"
She looked at me in a piteous, uncertain manner. I braced myself for
a "No." Then, suddenly, she seemed to decide to trust me--in sheer
desperate loneliness, I dare say.
"I am going," she whispered, "to a village in the war zone--where there
is a chateau. There are things in it--some papers; at least I believe
there are. It is just a chance, just a forlorn hope; but it means
all the world to certain people. I have to act in secret till I have
succeeded, and then every one in France, every one on earth may know all
that I have done!"
If I had not burned my bridges, this announcement might have worried me;
it was too vague, and what little I grasped tallied startlingly with Van
Blarcom's rigmarole. However, having bowed allegiance, I didn't blink an
eyelid.
"Yes," I said encouragingly. "Is it very far?"
Her eyes went past me anxiously, watching the inn and its blank windows,
as she fumbled in her coat and brought forth a motor map.
"Take it," she breathed, thrusting it toward me.
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