Marlowe called one afternoon, and I was compelled to make excuse for Sylvia's absence, telling him she was down at Mrs. Shuttleworth's. "You don't look quite yourself, old man," he had said. "What's up?" "Oh, nothing," I laughed faintly. "I'm a bit run down, that's all. Want a change, I suppose. I think I shall go abroad." "I thought your wife had had sufficient of the Continent," he remarked. "Curiously enough," he added, as he sat back and blew a cloud of cigarette-smoke from his lips, "I thought I saw her the day before yesterday standing on the railway platform at Banbury. I was coming down from Birmingham to Oxford, and the train slowed down in passing Banbury. I happened to be looking out at the time, and I could have sworn that I saw her." "At Banbury!" I ejaculated, leaning forward. "Yes. She was wearing a dark blue dress, with a jacket to match, and a small dark blue hat. She was with an elderly lady, and was evidently waiting for a train. She gave me the impression that she was starting on a journey." "How old was her companion?" "Oh, she was about forty, I should think--neatly dressed in black." "It couldn't have been she," I said reflectively. "My dear Owen, Mrs. Biddulph's beauty is too marked for one to be mistaken--especially a friend, like myself." "Then you are quite certain it was she--eh, Jack?" My tall friend stretched his long legs out on the carpet, and replied-- "Well, I'd have bet a hundred to a penny that it was she. She wasn't at home with you on that day, was she?" I was compelled to make a negative reply. "Then I'm certain I saw her, old man," he declared, as he rose and tossed his cigarette-end away. It was upon my tongue to ask him what he had known of her, but I refrained. She was my wife, and to ask such a question would only expose to him my suspicions and misgivings. So presently he went, and I was left there wretched in my loneliness and completely mystified. The house seemed full of grim shadows now that she, the sun of my life, had gone out of it. Old Browning moved about silent as a ghost, watching me, I knew, and wondering. So Sylvia had been seen at Banbury. According to Jack, she was dressed as though travelling; therefore it seemed apparent that she had hidden in that quiet little town until compelled to flee owing to police inquiries. Her dress, as described by Jack, was different to any I had ever seen her wear; hence it seemed as though she had disguised herself as much as was possible. Her companionship with the elder woman was also somewhat strange. My only fear was that the police might recognize her. While she remained in one place, she would, no doubt, be safe from detection. But if she commenced to travel, then most certainly the police would arrest her. Fortunately they were not in possession of her photograph, yet all along I remained in fear that the manager of the Coliseum might make a statement, and this would again connect me with the gang.