“The police!” she said, as if startled. “But if—if there should be a scandal! Oh, Seymour, that would be too horrible! I couldn’t bear that! He might—it might come out! And my name—”
She got up from the sofa. Her face looked drawn with an anxiety that was like agony. He got up too.
“It was only a threat. But in any case it will be all right, Adela.”
“But we don’t know what he may do!” she said, with desperation.
“Wait till you know what he has done.”
“What has he done?”
And then he told her of the outrage in the studio. When he was silent she made a slight swaying movement and took hold of the mantelpiece. He saw by her face that she had grasped at once what Arabian’s action implied.
Flight!
“You see—he’s done with. We’ve done with the fellow!” he said at last as she did not speak.
“Yes.”