Without an attempt at a farewell greeting, he walked quickly back across the street, to where, as Rodney had been aware, another person had been waiting.
The pair walked briskly off together side by side, and Rodney went up the steps into the house. He knew that, as he had expected, the presence of that platform inspector was going to prove awkward for him; more awkward than he cared to think. But he did think, as he turned into his sitting-room; and still stood thinking as the door was gently opened and Mabel Joyce came in. Her agitation was almost unpleasantly evident. One could see that her hands were trembling, that her lips were twitching, and that, indeed, it was all she could do to keep her whole body from shaking. She came quickly towards the table, and leaned upon the edge; plainly it was a very real assistance in aiding her to stand. And her voice was as tremulous as her person.
"Did--did you see him?"
"My dear Mabel, did I see whom?"
She seemed to clutch the table still more tightly.
"Rodney, don't! It's no good. Do you think I don't know? What's the good of pretending with me, when you know--I know? What cock-and-bull story is this about some man, some fool, some lunatic, who says--he did it? Do you think that I don't know, that Mr. Dale doesn't know, that they all don't know? Rodney," and her voice trembled so that it was with pain she spoke at all, "there'll--there'll--be a warrant--out--in the morning. Oh, my God! my God!"
And the girl threw herself forward on the table, crying and trembling as if on the verge of a convulsion.
"What on earth, Mabel, is the use of spoiling your pretty face like this? I am a little worried to-night, and that's the truth. If there's anything you want to say to me, old girl, say it, and have done with it."
He sighed. She raised herself from the table, and looked across at him.
"Rodney, it won't be any use our marrying." There was a big sob. "That won't save you--now. God knows what will."