"You must come away from here," I said in a low urgent voice. "Fillingford may be here at any moment. He went to Breysgate first—but he'll come on here. He knows—and he means to find you."
"If he knows, what does it matter whether he finds me or not? And what are we to do with Powers?"
"Leave him to me. I'll get him back to his own house." I had it in my mind that I could call Lacey to help me to carry him.
While I spoke, she was giving the man another drink. He gurgled in his throat and moved uneasily. She looked up again: "He's doing all right, but—hadn't Leonard better go?"
"Nonsense," said Octon. "I'm here to see it through."
"No, no," I said hastily. "She's right, you go. This may be a police matter, if he takes it that way—or if Fillingford comes and finds him. If you're here, you may be arrested. Then everything's got to come out! For her sake you ought to go."
"You must go, Leonard," said Jenny. She propped Powers's head on a footstool and rose to her feet.
"It would be the best thing," said Octon. "It's only to-night instead of to-morrow morning."
His decision was taken. He lingered only one minute. He held out both his hands to her, and she put hers in them. I looked away; by chance my eyes fell on the mantelpiece. It struck me differently somehow; in an instant it occurred to me that the picture of the beautiful young girl was not there.
"There's a fast train to London at 8.15. You can catch that," I said. "And you'd better go abroad to-morrow. I can let you know what happens."