Carlton was upon him in two strides.
"Very well," said he, "you shall; and you shall come upstairs and see me change. But address another word to me at your peril!"
A small crowd had collected at the gate; a Lakenhall policeman was waiting in the trap. Carlton came down the drive with his long coat flying and his head thrown back. Somehow he was allowed to depart without a groan.
On the way he never spoke, and something kept the constables from speaking before him. They had a slow horse; it was nearly an hour before Carlton saw the inside of a police-station for the first time in his life. Here he was formally charged by a portly inspector with whom he had some slight acquaintance; the charge concluded with the usual warning that anything he said might be given in evidence against him.
"I hear," said Carlton. "And now?"
The inspector shrugged his personal regret.
"I'm afraid there's only one thing for it now, sir."
"The cells, eh?"
"That's it, Mr. Carlton."
"Till when?"