“Yes,” I answered. “You see I am the only person who really knows the man by sight.”
“But,” she urged, “you are not a policeman. Suppose this man should be violent, like that other man; and he probably will be.”
“Oh,” I answered airily, “that will be provided for. Besides, I am not asked to arrest him; only to point him out to the police.”
“I wish,” she said, “you would stay in the studio until they have secured him. Then you could go and identify him. That would be much safer.”
“No doubt,” I agreed. “But it might lead to their arresting the wrong man and letting the right one slip. No, Marion, we must make sure of him if we can. Surely you are at least as anxious as any of us that he should be caught and made to pay the penalty?”
“Yes,” she answered, “if he is really the right man—which I can hardly believe. But still, punishing him will not bring poor Daddy back, whereas if anything were to happen to you, Stephen⸺ Oh! I don’t dare to think of it!”
“You needn’t think of it, Marion,” I rejoined, cheerfully. “I shall be all right. And you wouldn’t have your apprentice hang back when these Bobbies are taking the affair as a mere every-day job.”
She made no reply beyond another anxious glance; and I was glad enough to let the subject drop, bearing in mind Thorndyke’s words with regard to the pistol. As a diversion, I suggested a visit to the National Gallery, which we were now approaching, and the suggestion being adopted, without acclamation, we drifted in and rather listlessly perambulated the galleries, gazing vacantly at the exhibits and exchanging tepid comments. It was a spiritless proceeding, of which I remember very little but some rather severe observations by Miss Boler concerning a certain “hussy” (by one, Bronzino) in the great room. But we soon gave up this hollow pretence, and went forth to board a yellow ’bus which was bound for the Archway Tavern; and so home to an early supper.
On the following morning I made my appearance betimes at Ivy Cottage, but it was later than usual when Marion and I started to walk in leisurely fashion to the studio.
“I don’t know why we are going at all,” said she. “I don’t feel like doing any work.”