They walked back to the Rose and Crown; and as they emerged from the comparative privacy of Sin Lane into the open street Robert had the exposed feeling that being out in a bad air-raid used to give him. All the attention and all the venom in the uneasy night seemed to be concentrated on his shrinking person. So now in the bright early-summer sunlight he crossed the street feeling naked and unprotected. He was ashamed to see how relaxed and seemingly indifferent Marion swung along at his side, and hoped that his self-consciousness was not apparent. He talked as naturally as he could, but he remembered how easily her mind had always read the contents of his, and felt that he was not making a very good job of it.
A solitary waiter was picking up the shilling that Ben Carley had left on the table, but otherwise the lounge was deserted. As they seated themselves round the bowl of wallflowers on the black oak table Marion said: "You heard that our windows are in again?"
"Yes; P.C. Newsam looked in on his way home last night to tell me. That was smart work."
"Did you bribe them?" Mrs. Sharpe asked.
"No. I just mentioned that it was the work of hooligans. If your missing windows had been the result of blast you would no doubt still be living with the elements. Blast ranks as misfortune, and therefore a thing to be put up with. But hooliganism is one of those things that Something Must Be Done About. Hence your new windows. I wish that it was all as easy as replacing windows."
He was unaware that there had been any change in his voice, but Marion searched his face and said: "Some new development?"
"I'm afraid there is. I was coming out this afternoon to tell you about it. It appears that just when the Ack-Emma is dropping the subject-there is only one letter today and that a mild one-just when the Ack-Emma has grown tired of Betty Kane's cause the Watchman is going to take it up."
"Excelsior!" said Marion. "The Watchman snatching the torch from the failing hands of the Ack-Emma is a charming picture."
"Climbing into the Ack-Emma 's bed," Ben Carley had called it; but the sentiment was the same.
"Have you spies in the Watchman office, Mr. Blair?" Mrs. Sharpe asked.