“I am sure he does,” I replied; “but how much more, I cannot guess. He is extraordinarily close. But I have a feeling that the end is not so very far off. He seems to be quite hopeful of laying his hand on this villain.”
“Oh! I hope you are right, Stephen,” she exclaimed. “I have been getting so anxious. There has seemed to be no end to this deadlock. And yet it can’t go on indefinitely.”
“What do you mean, Marion?” I asked.
“I mean,” she answered, “that you can’t go on wasting your time here and letting your career go. Of course, it is delightful to have you here. I don’t dare to think what the place will be like without you. But it makes me wretched to think how much you are sacrificing for me.”
“I am not really sacrificing anything,” said I. “On the contrary, I am spending my time most profitably in the pursuit of knowledge and most happily in a sweet companionship which I wouldn’t exchange for anything in the world.”
“It is very nice of you to say that,” she said, “but, still, I shall be very relieved when the danger is over and you are free.”
“Free!” I exclaimed, “I don’t want to be free. When my apprenticeship has run out I am coming on as journeyman. And now I had better get my blouse on and start work.”
I went to the further end of the studio, and, taking the blouse down from its peg, proceeded to exchange it for my coat. Suddenly I was startled by a sharp cry, and, turning round, beheld Marion stooping over the photograph with an expression of the utmost horror.
“Where did this come from?” she demanded, turning a white, terror-stricken face on me.
“I put it there, Marion,” I answered somewhat sheepishly, hurrying to her side. “But what is the matter? Do you know the man?”