“He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. He had done this a dozen times on the way from his office. His attention drawn, the captain was easily able to make out the pretty features under the feathered hat, and the same dark riding habit the fugitive had worn on that first occasion at Remenham House. He hated to destroy it; but that was the obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man.
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