“I'll have no more words from you,” he suddenly cried out. “You'll go in the morning! I'll have to take your word that you won't communicate with Betty.”

“But, my God, I can't just save myself—”

“It may not be so safe for you or any of us. Will you go?”

“Oh... yes!”

“You will not try to see Betty?”

“Not to-morrow.”

“Nor after.”

Brachey sprang up; leaned against the table; pushed the lamp away.

“How do I know what I shall do?”

“I know.”