"Why, what is there to be afraid of!" he said. "If all's clear we shall have the things in a jiffy, and if it isn't we shall take our hook as quietly as we came, and no one will be the wiser. Should you like Boulogne, Fan, or should you like Brussels? We could be married directly we got on the other side. Boulogne's not half a bad place, and you'd look rather a swell at the Casino."
It was the irresistible argument again. She raised her head.
"You—you will go quietly; there will be no—no violence, Ted?"
"Is it likely?"
She shuddered.
"There—there was in that case at Berkeley Square, Ted!" and she shuddered again.
His face darkened.
"That was an accident. The gentleman was an obstinate old fool. But there's no fear of anything of that kind in this affair. I tell you we shall not be in the house more than five minutes, and if we're seen it won't matter. I'm in decent togs, and my pal is the model of a curate. Any one seeing us would think we were visitors in the house. You shall have a regular wedding dress, Fan. White satin and lace—real lace, mind you! Come, give us a kiss to say that it's done with, Fan!"
He took her face in his hands and kissed her, and with a choking sob she clung to him for a moment as if she could not tear herself away. But, having got what he wanted, the man was anxious to be off.
"Ten o'clock, mind, Fan! And a sharp lookout. There, let me put your shawl round your head. I'll wait here till I hear you're out of the wood."