"You won't," said Waffles Newton. "At least, you'll have to be jolly quick."
"Why?"
Newton waved an apologetic hand.
"They're being married to-morrow," he said, "special license. I say, that's not to go further, Sally."
"That's all right, old man."
"Married?" said Parker. "Good lord! that forces our hand a bit. Perhaps I'd better pop off. So long—and thanks very much for the tip, old man."
Wimsey followed him into the street.
"We'll have to put the stopper on this marriage business, quick," said Parker, madly waving to a taxi, which swooped past and ignored him. "I didn't want to move just at present, because I wasn't ready, but it'll be the devil and all if the Rushworth girl gets hitched up to Penberthy and we can't take her evidence. Devil of it is, if she's determined to go on with it, we can't stop it without arresting Penberthy. Very dangerous, when there's no real proof. I think we'd better have him down to the Yard for interrogation and detain him."
"Yes," said Wimsey. "But—look here, Charles."
A taxi drew up.