“Oh yes, you have,” said she, confidently. “Now, trust them with me, and Goodhare need not know at present that you have not taken them to Amsterdam.”
“But where shall I go?”
“Go back to your aunt at Carstow, and she’ll nurse all those worried lines out of your face again.”
“But I daren’t; I’m ashamed to,” objected the poor wretch.
“Then go away and hide yourself somewhere for to-night, and be at Paddington to-morrow at twelve, and you shall go down with me.”
“And Rees, what about Rees?” asked Sep, who although he had lost most of his old enthusiasm about his friend, still retained the remains of a dogged and not very reasonable devotion to him.
“You don’t think I should forget him,” said Deborah, gravely.
“Of course not,” he answered, hastily. “You will get him out of the scrape too?”
“Certainly.”
“But there are so many other scrapes behind this one!”