Mrs Carruthers regarded her husband for a second or two in meditative silence. There was something in her suspicion after all; it was not merely prejudice which had been responsible for connecting Arnott's absence with the girl's flight in her mind. "Dickie," she said, "I believe they have gone away together." "I shouldn't wonder." "I believe she knows it," Mrs Carruthers pursued. She recalled Pamela's stricken face, the evasive, frightened look in her eyes, her halting admission of ignorance as to her husband's movements. "The brute!" she murmured, and added abruptly, "What a horrible thing to have happened. How is it going to end?" "The usual way, I imagine," Carruthers replied. "Unless of course she decides to keep quiet for the sake of the kids." A pause followed. Carruthers bit the end off a cigar and lighted it irritably. He was wishing that the Arnott's affairs would not intrude themselves on his domestic peace. From his knowledge of his wife he realised that, however disinclined, he would be dragged into the business somehow. He anticipated her proposal that he should act as adviser to the deserted wife. In general he was not abnormally selfish; but he disliked being mixed up in other people's scandals; and he did not see how he could keep out of this very well. He smoked energetically, and maintained a non-committal silence. In the meanwhile Mrs Carruthers rapidly reviewed the situation. "But the girl..." she said suddenly, and broke off with a thoughtful puckering of her brows. "And I wanted George Dare to marry that girl," she added, ending the pause. "It's a let off for him anyway," remarked Carruthers. "I would never have believed her capable of such wickedness," she observed presently. "I don't see why you should believe it of her now," he ventured. "After all, you know nothing. There may be quite a different explanation of Arnott's absence. Didn't his wife say where he had gone?" "I didn't like to ask her. She seemed to be in entire ignorance as to his movements. And she was so upset. It was her manner that made me suspicious. She was dazed, and--oh! hopeless. No one would take the disappearance of a governess to heart like that. I told her you would run in for a chat and advise her what to do." He groaned. "Why couldn't you leave me out of it?" he protested. "I can't advise her. I've no experience in these things. You can tell her from me not to bother her head about the matter. I'll make inquiries to-morrow, and find out what I can. I don't suppose it will lead to much. The girl is old enough to look after herself, and Arnott's movements are no concern of mine." "Well, really! Dickie, you might be more helpful," she said. "That is being helpful," he insisted. "It's a much more reasonable idea than yours, and more discreet in the circumstances. If things are anything like so bad as you are trying to make out, the less I run in there the better." Mrs Carruthers laughed.