"I am glad to hear you say that, Chetwode," he declared, "very glad. Still, I didn't want to go to prison, you know, so a few days afterwards I went away. I meant to hide for quite a long time. I—I don't know what I'm doing back here."
He looked around the office like a trapped animal.
"I didn't mean to come back yet, Chetwode!" he exclaimed. "Don't leave me! Do you hear? Don't leave me!"
"Only for one second, sir," Arnold replied, taking an invoice from the desk. "They are wanting this in the warehouse."
Arnold stepped rapidly across to Mr. Jarvis's desk.
"Telephone home for his wife to come and bring a doctor," he ordered. "Quick!"
"He's out of his mind!" Jarvis gasped.
"Stark mad," Arnold agreed.
When he re-entered the office, Mr. Weatherley was sitting muttering to himself. Arnold came over and sat opposite to him.
"Mrs. Weatherley is calling round presently, sir," he announced. "You'll be glad to see her again."