"So like a man," laughed the girl; "you wish to settle an important future in five minutes. We must wait."
"Wait? Oh no, no! Why should we?"
"Because," Mona laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, "your wife must be like Cæsar's, above suspicion."
"You wish me, then, to go on looking into the case?"
"I do, unless you accept the warning of Dr. Horace."
Prelice threw his panama over the hedge "I accept no warning, since you make me strong to dare it. I shall go on with the case—to-morrow."
"Why to-morrow?"
"Oh, Mona, let me enjoy Paradise for twenty-four hours."
"No. You must act, and at once, lest we lose our Paradise altogether. I don't understand what Dr. Horace means, but in spite of his hints I wish you to look into matters in order to find out who murdered poor Uncle Oliver, and in order to clear my name. You must go up to London to-day and begin your search. It is a sacrifice I ask of you, no doubt, but then love—true love—means sacrifice."
"Very good," said Prelice sedately; "I shall go up by the midday train and interview Madame Marie Eppingrave."