Surely no man was ever confronted by so many mysteries at one time as I was at this moment.
Fortunately I had been careful not to show my hand to anyone, and this perhaps gave me a distinct advantage.

On my journey back to London, as the train swung through Peterborough and out across the rich level lands towards Hitchin, I recollected Jack Durnford's words when I had mentioned the _Lola_.

What, I wondered, did he know?
Next month, in November, he was due back in London after his three years' service on the Mediterranean station.

Then we should meet in a few weeks I hoped.

Would he tell me anything when he became aware of all I knew?
He held some secret knowledge.