“Let them pursue,” she said, a stubborn light in her eyes. “I am my own mistress, Mr. Shaw. They can't take me, willy nilly, as if I were a child, you know.”
“That's quite true. You don't understand,” he said slowly, his back to her.
“You mean the law? Is it different from ours?”
“Not that. The—er—situation. You see, they might think it a trifle odd if they found you here—with me. Don't you understand?” He turned to her with a very serious expression. She started and sat bolt upright to stare at him comprehensively.
“You mean—it—it isn't quite—er—”
“Regular, perhaps,” he supplied. “Please keep your seat! I'm not the censor; I'm not even an opinion. Believe me, Miss Drake, my only thought was and is for your good.”
“I see. They would believe evil of me if they knew I had come to you,” she mused, turning quite cold.