But the need of making any explanation was taken from him. The lady who at their first appearance had shrunk back of Miss Wolcott, suddenly gave a little inarticulate cry and threw herself upon Broughton's breast.
"Woods! Oh, Woods! Where did you come from?" she cried and burst into tears.
Lyon held his breath in suspense, but it is not in masculine nature to thrust away a beautiful sobbing woman. Broughton's arms lifted to enclose her, and his voice murmured, not ungently: "There, there, Grace! Control yourself!"
Lyon turned to Miss Wolcott, trying to leave the reunited husband and wife in as much privacy as the situation admitted.
"What was your plan? Where were you going?" he asked, urgently.
She had thrown back her veil, and her face was pale, but resolute.
"We were trying to escape," she said.
"From whom?"
"That terrible detective. He had found Mrs. Broughton. He went to see her yesterday and told her--" She stopped abruptly, and a shudder shook her visibly.
"What did he tell her? In charity, let me know."