The car? Come on, Beresford, we'll go and have a look at this house of yours." Two constables were on duty in front of the house in Soho. An inspector reported to Mr. Carter in a low voice. The latter turned to Tommy. "The birds have flown--as we thought. We might as well go over it." Going over the deserted house seemed to Tommy to partake of the character of a dream. Everything was just as it had been. The prison room with the crooked pictures, the broken jug in the attic, the meeting room with its long table. But nowhere was there a trace of papers. Everything of that kind had either been destroyed or taken away. And there was no sign of Annette. "What you tell me about the girl puzzled me," said Mr. Carter. "You believe that she deliberately went back?"
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