“But our domestic affairs are, of course, no concern of yours. At the same time I daresay, now that you know what I have just told you, you will make allowance for the irritation my poor wife has shown, and you will not suppose she had any wish to interfere with the course of justice!” “Justice!” echoed Audrey faintly, more amazed than ever at the calmness with which her husband received the horrible news. “I repeat--justice,” said Gerard firmly. “If this unfortunate lady has disappeared, naturally she must be found, or traced. You can’t expect her friends to take her disappearance calmly. And may I ask,” and he turned from the one man to the other, “which of you has the warrant?” The man in the policeman’s boots nodded. “I have it, sir,” he said. Gerard turned to the other man. “Are you a policeman, too?” he asked. The man answered in a voice which made Audrey look round. It was not that, she thought, in which she had previously heard him speak. “I’m a detective, sir,” he said. “And was it necessary, do you think, to threaten a woman--a lady--with using force, when all she wanted was to write a letter to her solicitor?” The man with the policeman’s boots would have answered, but Gerard put up his hand, refusing to take his answer except from the person he had addressed. Again his calmness, and the impression his behaviour made on the policemen, surprised Audrey and excited her admiration. “Well, sir, what we meant by force was not exactly that,” said the man in a voice that was hardly audible. Gerard looked at him intently. “Well,” he said, “it would have been better not to use the word at all, don’t you think so?” “Perhaps, sir, we did exceed our duty a little,” said the detective hurriedly. “I’m sorry.” “So I think you ought to be,” said Gerard, still fixing him with his keen blue eyes as he went on speaking, and disregarding every attempt made by the other man to distract his attention by casual comments. “You know very well that there was nothing surprising in the fact that a lady, brought face to face with such a charge, should wish to exchange a few words with her friends. I believe such a privilege is usually allowed, is it not?” “I believe so, sir.” “Then why were you so strict?” The man looked at his companion, but Gerard refused again to divert his gaze from the man he questioned, who fidgeted uneasily under this interrogatory. “Ladies are difficult people to deal with, sir,” he said, in the same hoarse whisper as before. “One doesn’t want to be harsh, yet one is afraid of being talked round. Especially in such a case, sir.” He was conciliatory, almost apologetic. At last Gerard relaxed his look, and turned to the other man. “What is it you want my wife to do?” he asked briefly. There was a hesitating silence. “Do I understand that she is to be taken before a magistrate to-night?” No answer.