Satisfied apparently with what she could hear of his statement, Isabel made no attempt to reply. With her eyes half-closed she leaned against his shoulder, swaying with the movement of the car and holding tight to his hand like a tired but contented child.
"Were you going to marry him?" demanded Tony abruptly, as a worse bit of road than usual caused a momentary slackening in the pace.
She opened her eyes and nodded. "Uncle Philip told me that they had got hold of you too, and that if I didn't do it they would punish you horribly, somehow or other. I meant to kill myself directly I knew you were safe."
The arm with which Tony was holding her tightened a little in its grip.
"If ever I meet Uncle Phil again," he remarked slowly, "he'll run up against something considerably harder than Richmond Park."
A fresh plunge forward on the part of the car rendered any further conversation temporarily impossible, and for the next quarter of an hour they spun along in the same buoyant fashion, while the red roofs of Braxa, which were now visible in the distance, grew plainer and plainer every minute.
Some way short of the straggling outskirts Jimmy again checked his speed, and pulling into the side of the road came to a sudden and unexpected halt.
"How d'you do, Isabel," he observed, looking round over his shoulder. "Glad to meet you." Then addressing himself to her companion, he added: "What's your notion about things, Tony? I think myself we'd better make a dash for it. Run slap through the town and straight down on to the landing stage. I suppose the boat will be there all right."
Tony nodded. "One can always depend upon Guy," he said. "But how about the car? What are you going to do with that?"
"Scrap it," replied Jimmy. "Leave it on the quay. It doesn't belong to me you know, it belongs to the garage. I've got all my earthly possessions in my pocket."