Ruddington touched my hand.
"Oughtn't we to go away from here?" he whispered.
"No!" I whispered back, shaking my fist. "We oughtn't."
"I was out with a blooming car," explained Gibson. "Georgette brought your letter at half-past three, but I didn't get it till seven."
"Thank goodness you wasn't away for the night!" exclaimed Susan fervently.
"Well, I'm here, anyway," said Gibson. "Not that I expect it's going to do me any good. You promised you'd settle me this week, on or off, one way or another. I suppose you've only brought me here to give me the chuck?"
Susan did not reply.
"What've you got there?" asked Gibson with a jump. He had caught sight of Susan's bag.
"It's my things," said Susan. "Oh, Tom, I want you to take me away!"
"Take you away?" echoed Gibson, thunderstruck.