Anthony picked up his hat. “I must go,” he said.
“Where?”
“Back to Marling.”
“Oh, Mr. Gethryn!” Lucia cried. “Did you only come up to bring me?”
“Yes,” he said, after a pause.
“How awfully nice of you! But ought you to have wasted all that time?”
“All pleasure,” Anthony said oracularly, “is gain. Did you warn your sister that Deacon would probably be arrested after the inquest?”
“I did. And I tried to persuade her not to worry. So I obeyed orders, you see.”
“Did you believe there was no cause for worry?”
The great dark eyes met his. In their great depths he saw little golden fires dancing.