As he reached it the door of the cottage was flung open and a beam of warm lamplight shone forth. Shirley's voice sounded, sharp with anxiety: "Is that you, Mark?" Then she saw the second, larger figure. "Who's that?" she said quickly.
Amberley strolled into the light. "Don't be alarmed," he said.
She stared at him, but he thought he saw a certain amount of relief on her face. "I suppose I might have guessed," she said. "What has happened?"
Mark, who had been fidgeting restlessly, answered belligerently: "He'll tell you fast enough. And you needn't think I want to hear your remarks about it, because I don't. I'm going to bed."
He tried to thrust his way past her into the house, but she caught his arm. "Where have you been? I went down to the Blue Dragon. They said you'd gone."
He shook off her hand. "Well, perhaps that'll teach you not to follow me about," he said, and flung into the house.
Shirley turned to Amberley. "Will you come in?" she said listlessly.
He followed her into the living room. Seen in the pale lamplight her face looked tired and wan. She made a little gesture towards a chair. "I suppose you brought him home," she said. "It seems to be your mission in life. What has he been doing?"
"Merely trying to get himself arrested." He drew the automatic out of his pocket and laid it down on the table. "May I suggest that you keep this where he won't in future find it?"
Her pallor grew. "I know. I missed it. I didn't know he'd discovered where I keep it. Where did he go?"