“It was because I got away so much earlier than I expected that I walked from the station, and presently I saw her walking rapidly a few yards in front of me. I shouldn’t have known her but for her gait: you know that curious way of hers—graceful I suppose, but——”
“I know, like a snake; we always said so!”
“Yes, and she was very plainly dressed, in a long, dark cloak and floating veil, almost like a nurse’s uniform; but I was quite sure it was she; and it was, for she evidently wore the same get-up yesterday,” he added, picking up one of the newspapers and pointing to the detailed description.
“What did you do?” breathed Grace.
“Well, it wasn’t my business, of course, and I had no right to spy on her, so I loitered a bit, increasing the distance between us. I saw her turn the corner, and when I reached the square I really couldn’t resist just glancing down, and I caught sight of her blue veil disappearing through the entrance of the north block. That’s all; I scarcely gave another thought to it.”
“And you believe she went there again yesterday, but that’s very important, isn’t it, Roger? Oughtn’t you to tell the police?”
“I don’t know,” he said slowly, and, hands in pockets, he paced up and down the room, paused and stared out of the window, frowning perplexedly.
Grace watched him with anxious, puzzled eyes. It seemed a long time before he turned to her again, and spoke with curious hesitation.
“You see, it’s this way, darling. I’m thinking of Sir Robert, and of him alone. I fear there is a great deal more behind this—this crime than appears on the surface. The Press don’t know of it yet, that’s evident; the police may suspect, but I doubt if they know—in fact they can’t know everything unless they’ve seen those papers that were lost, and that’s unlikely, if it’s true, as Thomson said, they’ve been returned, and are in Lord Warrington’s hands. He will keep them safe enough!”
“But I don’t understand,” protested Grace. “Surely, Roger, the most important thing is to trace Lady Rawson’s murderer?”