Читать книгу The Green Archer онлайн

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"I won't ask you where you are going, or on what wild adventure," he said as he stood by the side of the car, his hands resting on the window-slot.

Valerie smiled.

"Is it necessary to ask, when in all probability you have two police motor-cyclists following me?"

"No," he shook his head, "on my honour. I'm trusting you today to do nothing that will embarrass me. As your official guardian angel I very naturally take an interest in your fate. I shall call at the Carlton at eight o'clock, and if you haven't returned I'll send a hurry call to every station in England."

She looked back as the car sped away, and saw him standing gazing after her. He was very good looking, and it was ridiculous to believe that he was thirty.

He waited until the car was out of sight, then he turned and strolled back through the park. Late in the year as it was, the day was warm, and the broad paths held a fair sprinkling of people. He walked on, his mind more occupied with the problem of Valerie Howett than that offered by the murder, which was the principal topic of conversation in London that day. Despite the assurance of his deductions, the presence of Valerie in Creager's plantation was a source of uneasiness.