"You shouldn't have come!" he said. "Why did you?"
"I came because there was no time to write to you, and I had to see you. They've found out who he was. A man from Scotland Yard came this evening and wanted to know all about you both. I did everything I could for him. Told him everything he wanted to know, except where you were. I even gave him snaps of you and him. But he knows you are in London, and it's only a matter of time if you stay here. You've got to go."
"What did you give him the photographs for?"
"Well, I thought about it when I went away to pretend to look for them, and I knew I couldn't go back and say I couldn't fired them and make him believe me. I mean, I was afraid I wouldn't do it well enough. And then I thought, since they had got so far — finding out all about you two — a photograph wouldn't make much difference one way or another."
"Wouldn't it?" said the man. "Tomorrow every policeman in London will know exactly what I look like. A description's one thing and that's bad enough, God knows — but a photograph is the very devil. That's torn it!"
"Yes, it might have if you were going to stay in London. But if you stayed in London you'd be caught in any case. It would only be a matter of time. You've got to get out of London tonight."
"There's nothing I'd like better," he said bitterly, "but how, and where to? If I leave this house, it's fifty to one I walk straight into the police, and with a mug like mine it wouldn't be very easy to convince them that I wasn't myself. This last week's been ten thousand hells. God, what a fool I was! — and for so little reason. To put a rope round my neck for next to nothing!"
"Well, you've done it," she said coolly. "Nothing can alter that. What you've got to consider now is how to get away. And as quickly as you can."
"Yes, you said that before — but how, and where to?"
"Have some food and I'll tell you. Have you had a proper meal today?"