"That's settled," said Suzanne at last, getting up and stretching herself with a big yawn. "I'm exhausted with my own eloquence. Now then, let us discuss our victims. Mr. Chichester is going on to Durban. Sir Eustace is going to the Mount Nelson Hotel in Cape Town and then up to Rhodesia. He's going to have a private car on the railway, and in a moment of expansion, after his fourth glass of champagne the other night, he offered me a place in it. I dare say he didn't really mean it, but, all the same, he can't very well back out if I hold him to it."
"Good," I approved. "You keep an eye on Sir Eustace and Pagett, and I take on Chichester. But what about Colonel Race?"
Suzanne looked at me queerly.
"Anne, you can't possibly suspect"
"I do, I suspect everybody. I'm in the mood when one looks round for the most unlikely person."
"Colonel Race is going to Rhodesia too," said Suzanne thoughtfully. "If we could arrange for Sir Eustace to invite him also"
"You can manage it. You can manage anything."
"I love butter," purred Suzanne.
We parted on the understanding that Suzanne should employ her talents to the best advantage.
I felt too excited to go to bed immediately. It was my last night on board. Early to-morrow morning we should be in Table Bay.
I slipped up on deck. The breeze was fresh and cool. The boat was rolling a little in the choppy sea. The decks were dark and deserted. It was after midnight.
I leaned over the rail, watching the phosphorescent trail of foam. Ahead of us lay Africa, we were rushing towards it through the dark water. I felt alone in a wonderful world. Wrapped in a strange peace, I stood there, taking no heed of time, lost in a dream.
