"No, Helen," he said firmly. "We are not happy yet. I must know more. How long is it since that evening in the studio?"
"About a month, darling. This is Christmas week. To-morrow will be Christmas Eve."
Ronnie considered this in silence.
Then: "Let's walk up and down," he said. "It ought to be too cold to sit about in Christmas week."
She rose and they walked along the sea-front together.
Ronnie glanced behind them. The man on the seat had risen also and was following at a little distance.
"What cheek of that chap," he said. "He seems determined to overhear our conversation. Shall I tell him to be off?"
"No, dear; please don't," she answered hurriedly. "He cannot possibly overhear us."
Presently she dropped her muff and stooped to pick it up. But Ronnie turned also, and saw her make a sign to the man following them, who at once sat down on the nearest seat.
Then poor Ronnie knew.