They were three-quarters of the way through and were rapidly approaching the town, when quite suddenly Isabel, who up till then had apparently been taking little notice of where they were going, broke off abruptly in the middle of what she was saying.
"Why!" she stammered; "isn't—isn't this Richmond Park?"
Tony looked at her in mild surprise. "Yes," he said. "I came round this way for the sake of the run." He paused. "What's the matter?" he added, for all the colour and animation had died out of her face.
"I—I'd rather not go through Richmond," she faltered, "if—if it's all the same to you."
Tony slackened down the pace to a mere crawl. "Why of course," he said. "We will do exactly what you like. I didn't know——"
The sentence was never finished. With a sudden little gasp Isabel shrank back in the car, cowering against him almost as if she had been struck.
The cause of her alarm was not difficult to discover. A well-dressed elderly man who had been walking slowly towards them with his head down, had suddenly pulled up in the roadway and was staring at her in a sort of incredulous amazement. Although Tony had only seen him once before, he recognized him immediately. It was the agitated gentleman who had been talking to Da Freitas in the hall of the Club on the previous morning.
For perhaps a second he remained planted in the road apparently paralysed with amazement: then with a sudden hoarse exclamation of "Isabella!" he took a swift stride towards the car.
Isabel clutched Tony by the arm.
"Go on," she whispered faintly.