"Certainly, madam," and all three made way for her. She went straight to her husband, and stood before him at the other end of the room, speaking in a low voice. "Is there anything I can do for you, John?" she asked so that he could barely hear her. "You can help me to get away--if you will." John Darche's eyes fell before hers. She gazed at him during several seconds, hesitating, perhaps, between her sense of justice and her desire to be faithful to her husband to the very end. "Yes, I will," she said briefly. Before she spoke again she turned quite naturally, as though in hesitation, and satisfied herself that the three men were out of hearing. Vanbrugh, perhaps suspecting what was taking place, had engaged them in conversation near the door. "How?" she asked, looking at John again. "Tell me quickly." "Presently, when my father comes, get as many people as you can. Let me be alone for a moment. Make some confusion, upset something, anything will do. Give me a chance to get through the door into the library." "I will try. Is that all?" "Thank you," said John Darche, and for one moment a look of something like genuine gratitude passed over his hard face. "Yes, that is all. You will be glad to get rid of me." Marion looked one moment longer, hesitated, said nothing and turned away. "If you have no objections," said Vanbrugh addressing the officer in charge, "we will take Mr. Darche to his father's room instead of asking him to come here." "Yes, sir," answered the detective. "We can do that." As they were about to leave the room, Brett met them at the door. He paused a moment and looked about. Then he went straight to Vanbrugh. "Has he seen him yet?" he asked. "No, we are just going," answered Vanbrugh. "Can I be of any use?" "Stay with Mrs. Darche." "Shall we go?" he asked, turning to John. "How brave you are!" exclaimed Brett when they were alone. "Does it need much courage?" asked Marion, sinking into a chair. "I do not know. Perhaps." "I know that there are not many men who could bear all this as well as you do," Brett answered, and there was a little emotion in his face. "Men are different. Mr. Brett--" she began after a short pause. "Yes, do you want to ask me something?" "Yes, something that is very hard to ask. Something that you will refuse." "That would be hard indeed." "Will you promise not to be angry?" asked Marion faintly. "Of course I will," Brett answered. "Do not be so sure. Men's honour is such a strange thing. You may think what I am going to ask touches it." "What is it?" He sat down beside her and prepared to listen.