Alan, behind him, was shaking his head at his sister.
Gillian did not appear to notice that. Her expression was very much softer, and there was a glow in her eyes such as Rollison had seen, quite unexpectedly, when she had talked to Tex Brandt.
“All right, Monty, I’ll go over and see him right away.”
“If you sell for less than fifteen thousand pounds, you’ll be crazy!” Alan burst out, but that seemed unimportant: the important and the peculiar thing, in view of what he knew, was the smile on M.M.M.’s face. It was almost radiant. He could hardly have looked more delighted if Gillian had promised to marry him.
Rollison turned and went back the way he had come.
He was five minutes getting to the farmhouse, and had been there for five minutes when he heard the knock at the front door. He shuffled to the window and looked out as best he could; Gillian seemed to be alone. She was hatless in a linen dress with three-quarter length sleeves, and the dress was as green as the leaves of a tree in spring. He couldn’t see her well, but there was youth and beauty in her, and he already knew of her great compassion.
He knew what had happened between her and the Texan, too; whichever way this went, she would get hurt.
He unfastened the chain.
“Who is it?”
“I’m sorry to worry you again, Mr. Smith,” she said, in a more confident voice than she had used before, “but I’ve another suggestion to make, and I think you might like it. May I come in?”
Rollison opened the door wider, standing to one side. She stepped forward, and then realised that it wasn’t Smith. She stopped, but his hand fell on to her wrist and he drew her in swiftly, closed the door, and then let her go. Fright and surprise put colour to her cheeks and brightness into her eyes, in spite of the dullness of the room.
Then she recognised Rollison.
“What on earth are you doing here? Why are you wearing Smith’s clothes?” She was breathless and bewildered.
“I thought I’d keep them aired for him,” said Rollison lightly, and gripped her arm again and smiled, as reassuring a smile as a man could give. “Don’t get worked up, Gillian, we’ve things to talk about.”
“But when did you get here? Was it you I talked to earlier this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is Smith? I’ve got to see him, I’ve got to talk to him !”
“You just have to take it easily for a few hours,” Rollison soothed, “and you’ve got to get used to some unpleasant facts. Remember the tall Texan man, William Brandt ?”
She looked at him warily.
“Of course I do.”
“Have you seen the newspapers?”
“No.”
“He is wanted for the two murders. He is also wanted for murder and other crimes in the United States. He is what we call a very bad man, Gillian.”
Her eyes began to storm.
“I don’t believe you.”
“There’s just one slim chance that I’m wrong and the police are also wrong,” said Rollison. “If I’m right, then Tex fooled me completely, I’ve never met a man who seemed so sane and soundly honest. I’ll ask Jolly to try to get a photograph of Tex Brandt radioed from the United States, so that we can be sure,” Rollison went on. “Meanwhile, we may have misjudged someone else. Did you know that every move you’ve made, for weeks, has been watched and reported to this William Brandt and those who work for him ? In short, that you’ve been spied on.”
“That’s impossible,” Gillian declared. “Alan and I have been living down at the cottage most of the time. We’ve had hardly any visitors, except Monty.”
“That’s right,” said Rollison.
“What on earth are you saying now ?”
“That you’ve been spied on and your movements reported, that Alan’s been watched, threatened by letter and telephone, both at the cottage and in London. Isn’t that true?”
Gillian would never know just how beautiful she looked in this half light: or how young and unsure of herself.
“Yes, everywhere he’s been he’s received threats, he told me so this morning but “ she hesitated, while he stood waiting for the obvious to dawn on her. She went on abruptly : “If you’re suggesting Monty, it’s ludicrous.”
“Who else could it be?”
“It couldn’t be Monty! Why he’s my closest friend, Alan’s too. He “
“He’s been desperately in love with you, and you’ve kept saying no,” Rollison reminded her, “and thwarted love can do queer things to human beings.”
“I simply cannot believe it,” Gillian insisted, and her honesty and her loyalty glowed, “You must be wrong.”
