"I hate letting you go alone," he said, truthfully; "and I certainly cannot let you go like this, without any idea as to your whereabouts."
"We are staying in Wensum Street," she said. "I tell you that you may avoid the neighbourhood. If I am to see you again, it certainly must not be there."
"Why not here?" he urged; "next Thursday night—say at half-past six. I must not lose sight of you again—so soon."
She raised her eyes quickly. It was pleasant to her to think that he cared.
"I think I could manage that," she said, softly.
Douglas went off to his club with a keen sense of having acquired a new interest in life. He was in that mood when companionship of some sort is a necessity.
CHAPTER XXI
THE REBELLION OF DREXLEY
"You think," Drexley said, his deep, bass voice trembling with barely-restrained passion, "that we are all your puppets—that you have but to touch the string and we dance to your tune. Leave young Jesson alone, Emily. He has been man enough to strike out a line for himself. Let him keep to it. Give him a chance."
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled upon him sweetly. She always preferred Drexley in his less abject moods.