of his old acquaintance with that now important government official, Donald Wilson, coupled, of course, with his own absolute conviction that Mrs. Garlett had died a natural death, which had achieved what at the moment had seemed such a triumph.

It was five hours later. The hotel sitting room was in darkness, save that no uncurtained room in London is ever really dark, and there was also a little fire in the black grate. But no one coming in casually would have seen the two who sat on the sofa hand in hand.

As soon as Jean and her aunt had arrived, there had begun the painful, difficult consultation—if, indeed, consultation it could be called, for Jean and the man she loved had listened 89in silence while the doctor and Mrs. Maclean tried to dissuade Harry Garlett from taking the course he meant to pursue.

89

At last, after having used every conceivable argument, husband and wife got up together.

“Let us go down and have a little supper,” said the doctor. “After that you two shall come up here alone and talk it over. Don’t be in too great a hurry to make up your mind, Harry. Weigh everything, and, above all, remember that ‘What’s done can’t be undone.’”

And now at last they were alone together. For a while neither of them spoke, and then Harry Garlett said quietly, “Your uncle has made me see one thing, my dearest. That I ought to leave the decision with you.”

“If the decision rests with me, then I say—do what you feel right.”

Moving up closer to him, she whispered: “The only thing that matters to me—surely you know it—is our love. Nothing can take that away. After all, we’re not bound to go on living in Terriford.”

“That’s true!” he exclaimed. “All the same, remember that if you feel the slightest doubt I’ll put aside my wish.”

“I feel not the slightest doubt. On the contrary, I’m quite sure,” she answered, without a tremor in her voice, “that whatever you feel should be done will be well done.”

Big Ben was booming out the hour of half-past ten as Harry Garlett was ushered into one of the bare waiting rooms of the Criminal Investigation Department. And it seemed to him a long time before the door opened again to admit the man he had asked to see.

Dr. Wilson was a 

 Prev. P 82/292 next