"Yes. Have the taxi drawn up in front of the hotel, and as it slows down, I'll jump in. Give the chauffeur an order--before he starts--not to stop, you know, but to go on the instant I'm in. A lot may depend on that." "What mischief have you been up to?" asked the laughing voice, which to Clo, in the room of death, seemed to come from another world. She shuddered as her eyes turned to the figure in the chair. "Good-bye!" she said, and hung up the receiver without another word. Eight minutes! It would take her about three to get out of the room, down the stairs, and to the front door--if all went well. What was she to do with the other five? Now that her mission was ended, she could not stay where she was. She had reached, and almost passed, the limit of her endurance. One idle moment in that place would surely drive her mad! Yet she could not stand in the street, waiting for O'Reilly to come to the rescue. Kit and the man who had talked to Kit might be ready to pounce upon her there. XXIII "WHAT'S DONE CAN'T BE UNDONE" "Don't be frightened, Mums! It's only me, back earlier than I expected," Ellen Blackburne announced herself at the door of her mother's bedroom. Mrs. Blackburne was propped up in bed, reading Young's "Night Thoughts." "Of course, I'm not frightened!" she reassured her daughter. "I'm only surprised. That's what makes my hands tremble." "I was in hopes you'd have gone to sleep," said Ellen, "and I could slip in without giving you a start. I stopped the taxi at the corner on purpose." "I'm delighted to have you back. But why did you bring the pearls home to string? Now you'll be sitting up the whole blessed night!" "Don't you worry!" Ellen soothed her. "I'm not going to sit up. I'm going to bed. Shall I leave the door open between the rooms while I undress, or shall I just kiss you good-night now, and let you rest in peace?" The little woman had sat down on the edge of the bed, but as she spoke, she stood up. It struck the older woman that, for some reason, she was in a hurry to get away. "There's something you don't want to tell me, isn't there, dear?" her mother quietly observed. "Well, you have the most wonderful intuition!" Ellen praised her parent. "I believe you could see through a wall. It's only that I didn't want to wake you up and make you nervous, so you would have a bad night." "I shall have a better night if I don't need to rack my brain thinking over what might have happened." "Oh, all right!" sighed Ellen, and sat down again. "You're a grand safety valve, you know, Mums, because I can talk to you, and be sure that whatever I say will be locked up in your strong box. I meant to write all this down in my notebook, with initials instead of names; but the diary can't give advice. You can. Only--you're certain we hadn't best wait till to-morrow?" "I shouldn't close my eyes!" said Mrs. Blackburne. "But I can say this to begin with: You did the right thing. You always do."