For a moment after they had gone, Ann relaxed, happy and relieved.  Everything had gone splendidly.  Then a shock ran through her whole system as Mrs. Pett spoke.  She spoke excitedly, in a lowered voice, leaning over to Ann.

“Ann!  Did you notice anything?  Did you suspect anything?”

Ann mastered her emotion with an effort.

“Whatever do you mean, aunt Nesta?”

“About that young man, who calls himself Jimmy Crocker.”

Ann clutched the side of the chair.

“Who calls himself Jimmy Crocker?  I don’t understand.”

Ann tried to laugh.  It seemed to her an age before she produced any sound at all, and when it came it was quite unlike a laugh.

“What put that idea into your head?  Surely, if he says he is Jimmy Crocker, it’s rather absurd to doubt him, isn’t it?  How could anybody except Jimmy Crocker know that you were anxious to get Jimmy Crocker over here?  You didn’t tell any one, did you?”

This reasoning shook Mrs. Pett a little, but she did not intend to abandon a perfectly good suspicion merely because it began to seem unreasonable.

“They have their spies everywhere,” she said doggedly.

“Who have?”

“The Secret Service people from other countries.  Lord Wisbeach was telling me about it yesterday.  He said that I ought to suspect everybody.  He said that an attempt might be made on Willie’s invention at any moment now.”

“He was joking.”

“He was not.  I have never seen any one so serious.  He said that I ought to regard every fresh person who came into the house as a possible criminal.”

“Well, that guy’s fresh enough,” muttered Ogden from the settee.

Mrs. Pett started.

“Ogden!  I had forgotten that you were there.”  She uttered a cry of horror, as the fact of his presence started a new train of thought.  “Why, this man may have come to kidnap you!  I never thought of that.”

Ann felt it time to intervene.  Mrs. Pett was hovering much too near the truth for comfort.  “You mustn’t imagine things, aunt Nesta.  I believe it comes from writing the sort of stories you do.  Surely, it is impossible for this man to be an impostor.  How would he dare take such a risk?  He must know that you could detect him at any moment by cabling over to Mrs. Crocker to ask if her step-son was really in America.”

It was a bold stroke, for it suggested a plan of action which, if followed, would mean ruin for her schemes, but Ann could not refrain from chancing it.  She wanted to know whether her aunt had any intention of asking Mrs. Crocker for information, or whether the feud was too bitter for her pride to allow her to communicate with her sister in any way.  She breathed again as Mrs. Pett stiffened grimly in her chair.

“I should not dream of cabling to Eugenia.”

“I quite understand that,” said Ann.  “But an impostor would not know that you felt like that, would he?”