"Douglas," she said, "I was sure of it, yet it is a great weight from my heart to hear you say so. Now, can you take me somewhere where we can talk? I am afraid of the streets. I will tell you why afterwards."
He called a hansom and handed her in. After a moment's hesitation he gave the address of the restaurant where he had first met Rice.
"It is only a shabby little place," he explained to her, apologetically, "but we can talk there freely."
"Anywhere," she answered; "how strange it seems to be here—in London with you."
There was a sense of unreality about it to him, but he only laughed.
"Now tell me about Joan."
She hesitated.
"It will not be pleasant."
"I do not deserve that it should be," he answered gravely.
"She has always been quite sure that it was not you who was killed in the railway accident. She even imbued me with that belief."