"
"I trust," the Earl intervened, "that my chauffeur offered to do
what was necessary?"
"Certainly he did, Lord Maltenby," she assured him. "I am trying
hard to be my own mechanic, though, and I have set my mind on
changing those plugs myself to-morrow morning."
"You are your own chauffeur, then, Miss Abbeway?" her inquisitor
asked.
"Absolutely."
"You can change a wheel, perhaps?"
"Theoretically I can, but as a matter of fact I have never had to
do it.'"
"Your tyres," Colonel Henderson continued, "are of somewhat
unusual pattern."
"They are Russian," she told him. "I bought them for that reason.
As a matter of fact, they are very good tyres."
"Miss Abbeway," the Colonel said, "I don't know whether you are
aware that my police are in search of a spy who is reported to
have escaped from the marshes last night in a small motor-car
which was left at a certain spot in the Salthouse road. I do not
believe that there are two tyres such as yours in Norfolk. How do
you account for their imprint being clearly visible along the road
to a certain spot near Salthouse? My police have taken tracings
of them this morning."
Catherine remained perfectly speechless. A slow smile of triumph
dawned upon her accuser's lips. Lord Maltenby's eyebrows were
upraised as though in horror.
"Perhaps," Julian interposed, "I can explain the tyre marks upon
the road. Miss Abbeway drove me down to Furley's cottage, where I
spent the night, late in the afternoon.
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