"Is it likely?"
She shuddered.
"There--there was in that case at Berkeley Square, Ted!" and she
shuddered again.
His face darkened.
"That was an accident. The gentleman was an obstinate old fool. But
there's no fear of anything of that kind in this affair. I tell you we
shall not be in the house more than five minutes, and if we're seen it
won't matter. I'm in decent togs, and my pal is the model of a curate.
Any one seeing us would think we were visitors in the house. You shall
have a regular wedding dress, Fan. White satin and lace--real lace, mind
you! Come, give us a kiss to say that it's done with, Fan!"
He took her face in his hands and kissed her, and with a choking sob she
clung to him for a moment as if she could not tear herself away. But,
having got what he wanted, the man was anxious to be off.
"Ten o'clock, mind, Fan! And a sharp lookout. There, let me put your
shawl round your head. I'll wait here till I hear you're out of the
wood."
But he remained only a moment or two after she had left him, and, with
quick, light steps, he joined his confederate.
"It's all right," he said, as he got into the dogcart. "I've found out
what I wanted. And I've managed with the girl. Had a devil of a job,
though! That's the worst of women! You've always got to play the
sentimental with them; nothing short of making love or offering to marry
'em is any use. It's a pity this kind of thing can't be worked without a
petticoat. There's always trouble and bother when they come in.
To-morrow night, Parson, ten o'clock, you and I are men or mice; but
it's going to be men," he added, between his teeth. "Did you bring my
barker as well as your own?"
The Parson touched the side pocket of his overcoat, and nodded
significantly.