“Do I understand that Miss Anna Welford has been allowed to leave her house?” There was a quality of exasperation in his tone, and Mr. Mason could not but agree that it was justified. For the first request that Reeder had made, and that by telephone from Rotherhithe, was that a special guard should be put over Anna Welford. Certain of Mr. Mason’s local subordinates, however, thought that the least likely thing that could happen would be that Desboyne would come into the neighbourhood, and here they were right. Matters had been further complicated by the fact that the girl had gone out that day, and was still out when the police officers called. She had rung up, however, a moment before Desboyne had telephoned, and had given her number, which was transferred to him. Later, when she was called up at the address she had given, it was discovered that she had gone out to meet him; nobody knew where. “So really,” said Gaylor, “nobody is to blame.” “Nobody ever is!” snapped Mr. Reeder. It was Mr. Clive Desboyne’s little conceit that he should arrange to meet the girl at the corner of the Thames Embankment, within fifty yards of Scotland Yard. When she arrived in some hurry, she saw nothing that would suggest that anything unusual had happened, except the good news he had passed to her over the telephone. “Where is Johnny?” she asked, almost before she was within talking distance, and he was amused. “I really ought to be very jealous,” he bantered her. He called a taxicab as he spoke, and ordered the man to drive him to an address in Chiswick. “Reeder hasn’t been on to you, of course? I’m glad--I wanted to be the first to tell you.” “Is he released?” she asked, a little impatiently. “He will be released this evening. I think that is best. The authorities are very chary of demonstrations, and Scotland Yard have particularly asked that he should give no newspaper interviews, but shall spend the night, if possible, out of town. I have arranged with my cousin that he shall stay at his place till to-morrow.” It all seemed very feasible, and when of his own accord he stopped the cab and, getting out to telephone, returned to tell her that he had ’phoned her father that she would not be back before eight, the thought of his disinterestedness aroused a warm little glow of friendship towards him. “I have been besieged by reporters myself, and I’m rather anxious to avoid them. These damned papers will do anything for a sensation.” The swift express van of one of these offending newspapers passed the taxi at that moment. On its back doors was posted a placard. “ALLEGED MURDERER’S DARING ESCAPE.” Later the girl saw another newspaper poster. “POLICE OF METROPOLIS SEARCHING FOR MURDERER.” The taxi drove up a side street, and, as he tapped on the window, stopped. There was a garage a little further along, and, leaving Anna, he went inside and came out in a few moments with a small closed coupe.