"Well," I said at last, "it's awkward—but it's safe enough. We'd better do nothing for the present."
Suzanne looked at me with a little smile.
"You don't like doing nothing, do you, Anne?"
"Not very much," I replied honestly.
The one thing I could do was to get hold of a time-table and see what time Guy Pagett's train would pass through Kimberley. I found that it would arrive at 5.40 on the following afternoon and depart again at 6. I wanted to see Pagett as soon as possible, and that seemed to me a good opportunity. The situation on the Rand was getting very serious, and it might be a long time before I got another chance.
The only thing that livened up the day was a wire dispatched from Johannesburg. A most innocent-sounding telegram:
"Arrived safely. All going well. Eric here, also Eustace, but not Guy. Remain where you are for the present. Andy."
Eric was our pseudonym for Race. I chose it because it is a name I dislike exceedingly. There was clearly nothing to be done until I could see Pagett. Suzanne employed herself in sending off a long soothing cable to the far-off Clarence. She became quite sentimental over him. In her way—which of course is quite different from me and Harry—she is really fond of Clarence.
"I do wish he was here, Anne," she gulped. "It's such a long time since I've seen him."
"Have some face cream," I said soothingly.
Suzanne rubbed a little on the tip of her charming nose.
"I shall want some more face cream soon too," she remarked, "and you can only get this kind in Paris." She sighed. "Paris!"
