“No. It’s a friend who will save you from the police.”
She did not say anything. She must be suspecting a trap.
He went on in a yet more urgent whisper: “You’re in the hands of the police. If you don’t follow me it means the court and prison.”
“No. The magistrate will let me go free.” [[51]]
“He won’t let you go free. Two men have been murdered. Your blouse is covered with blood. Come along—a moment’s hesitation may destroy you. Come along!” he insisted.
After a few seconds’ silence she murmured:
“My hands are bound.”
Crawling along and hugging the darkness as he crawled he cut her bonds with his knife and asked in a whisper:
“Can they actually see you?”
“Only the policeman when he turns round,” she replied. “And he can’t see me very well, for I’m in the shadow. As for the others, they’re too far to the left.”