"Her instinct there, at any rate, was true enough," he answered.
"She also believes," Cicely continued, more slowly, "that you robbed and murdered Father."
Douglas shivered. It was hard even now to recall that night unmoved.
"Well?"
"She has made up her mind that you are in London, and that sooner or later she will find you."
"And if she does?"
"She has been to Scotland Yard. They will arrest you."
The cab pulled up with a jerk, and a commissionaire threw open the apron. Douglas handed his companion out, and they entered the restaurant together. In a distant corner they found a table to themselves, and he ordered dinner.
"Well, we are safe from Joan here for a little time, at any rate," he said, laughing. "Are you living with her, then?"
Cicely nodded.
"Yes. We have left the farm. There was very little money, you know, after all, and Joan and I will have to take situations. At present we are living upon our capital in the most shameful way. I am afraid she is completely absorbed by one idea—it is horrible."