“No, no. Come along,” he cried impatiently, and, hurrying her out of the house, he helped her into a cab. “Cannon Street Station,” he cried to the driver, and jumping in beside her, the cab rattled off.
“Are we going to leave town, dear?”
“You’ll soon see,” he cried. “I can’t talk to you now; the cab-wheels make so much noise. Can’t you trust me?”
“Oh yes,” she cried, laying her hand upon his arm, “but you forget how anxious I am to know more.”
“Well, well, be patient,” he cried. “There, if you must know, I have been short of money.”
“Yes, dear, of course. I knew. You forget,” she said piteously.
“Yes, of course,” he replied. “Well, I was arrested for debt, and I have got away. We must stay in private—there, I’ll speak plainly—in hiding for a time.”
“Oh, John dear, this is very terrible!” she cried. “Why not go to Uncle Robert? He would help us, I am sure.”
“Yes, perhaps so. We will settle that afterwards. The first thing is to get to a place of safety.”
“Safety, John dear?”