"It's closed down. Since yesterday afternoon. Company being wound up, they say. Not that I've ever heard of it myself. But anyway the office is to let."
"Th—thank you," faltered Tuppence. "I suppose you don't know Mr. Whittington's address?"
"Afraid I don't. They left rather suddenly."
"Thank you very much," said Tommy. "Come on, Tuppence."
They descended to the street again where they gazed at one another blankly.
"That's torn it," said Tommy at length.
"And I never suspected it," wailed Tuppence.
"Cheer up, old thing, it can't be helped."
"Can't it, though!" Tuppence's little chin shot out defiantly. "Do you think this is the end? If so, you're wrong. It's just the beginning!"
"The beginning of what?"
"Of our adventure! Tommy, don't you see, if they are scared enough to run away like this, it shows that there must be a lot in this Jane Finn business! Well, well get to the bottom of it. We'll run them down! We'll be sleuths in earnest!"
"Yes, but there's no one left to sleuth."
"No, that's why we'll have to start all over again. Lend me that bit of pencil. Thanks. Wait a minute—don't interrupt. There!" Tuppence handed back the pencil, and surveyed the piece of paper on which she had written with a satisfied eye:
"What's that?"
"Advertisement."
