It wanted some five minutes to eleven when Tuppence reached the block of buildings in which the offices of the Esthonia Glassware Co. were situated. To arrive before the time would look over-eager. So Tuppence decided to walk to the end of the street and back again. She did so. On the stroke of eleven she plunged into the recesses of the building. The Esthonia Glassware Co. was on the top floor. There was a lift, but Tuppence chose to walk up.
Slightly out of breath, she came to a halt outside the ground glass door with the legend painted across it "Esthonia Glassware Co."
Tuppence knocked. In response to a voice from within, she turned the handle and walked into a small rather dirty outer office.
A middle-aged clerk got down from a high stool at a desk near the window and came towards her inquiringly.
"I have an appointment with Mr. Whittington," said Tuppence.
"Will you come this way, please." He crossed to a partition door with "Private" on it, knocked, then opened the door and stood aside to let her pass in.
Mr. Whittington was seated behind a large desk covered with papers. Tuppence felt her previous judgment confirmed. There was something wrong about Mr. Whittington. The combination of his sleek prosperity and his shifty eye was not attractive.
He looked up and nodded.
"So you've turned up all right? That's good. Sit down, will you?"
