The surprise in the girl's voice was like a knife in his heart. So the servants knew how seldom Chris and his wife went about together; and it was all his doing!
Marie had gone out for the day! He knew only too well what that meant—that she had already left home forever, to join her life with his.
It was impossible to stop her now. He would have to go and meet her, as they had arranged last night.
He had told her to meet him at a little inn on the Oxford road. He had arranged to drive the car down in the evening and take her away!
Last night it had sounded like sense! But this morning . . .
Madness!—utter madness!
Twice during the morning he rang Chris again, but each time he was still out, and finally Feathers wrote to him.
He sent the note by a boy who lived in the house, and went round to the garage to fetch his car.
If Marie had gone to the inn earlier than he had told her, there was still time to tell her the truth and take her back home.
274 It was afternoon then; an unusually hot day for September, with a curiously humid feeling in the air.