“Tell me what’s the matter, dear,” she asked gently.
“You’re putting it on, your lightness. What have you seen or heard?”
“Nothing I didn’t know before, dear. I saw little Crutchie of Fluett, and he’s bringing us food to-night. It seems £200 tempts some of them; but that’s no news.”
She pressed closer to him. “It would be kinder to tell me, dear; there’s no secrecy between us now, not like before.”
He was silent for a long time.
“Very well,” he said at last. “They’re flag-flapping. They began flag-flapping on Wadsworth Shelf when you turned off into the dean. They’ve seen you, or, maybe, both of us. It couldn’t be helped, for they’d have missed you in any case. Never mind.”
It did not take her an instant to come to her decision. She sat up, suddenly very pale.
“Arthur, you must leave me,” she said. “They can do nothing to me, and I’ll meet you somewhere in a week or two—a month or two—oh, Arthur!”
“What’s that?” he said, with infinite gentleness. “No, dear. It would be just the same in a week or a month; they’d follow you. We’ll take our wedding-trip together, I think; won’t we, Jim?—No, darling; I decide this. It’s three quarters through to get to Soyland; another hill, then the Edge, and down into Ratchet, and over Chat Moss to Liverpool ... now say ‘Yes’—say it at once——”