All the reason she possessed told her to say "No," but something far stronger than reason made her say instead: "All right, I — I will."
"My God, you are a wonderful girl," he said unsteadily.
She got up. "I must go. But I'd like to warn you of something. I didn't tell my people that you were there last night. You guessed I hadn't, didn't you? But Peter and Charles have motored into Manfield to-day, to tell the County Police what has been happening at the Priory. And - I think they'll tell the inspector to keep an eye on you."
"Thank-you," he said. His smile flashed out. "Don't worry your head over me," he said. "The police aren't going to get me."
She held out her hand. "I should be - very sorry if they did," she said. "Good-bye."
He took her hand, looked at it for a moment as it lay in his, and then bent his head and kissed it.
Chapter Eleven
Hawing extricated the car from the ditch with the aid of a farm-horse, Charles and Peter drove it into Manfield, the market town that lay some six miles to the east of Framley. Here was the headquarters of the County Police, and in the red-brick police-station they found the District Inspector.
This individual was of a different type from Constable Flinders. He was a wiry man of medium height, with foxy hair and a moustache meticulously waxed at the ends. He had a cold blue eye and a brisk manner, and his air of business-like competence promised well.
He listened without comment to the story Charles unfolded, only occasionally interrupting to put a brief question. His face betrayed neither surprise nor interest, and not even the episode of the discovered skeleton caused him to do more than nod.