He was caressing an idea. . Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner. He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. " "Enschede?—her father? What's happened?" McClintock sat down.
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