own eyes, a few minutes ago, in the bank. They showed me into a little
cupboard, a place without any roof, and laid it there before me on the
desk--his cheque and signature for the whole amount."

Philip looked at her earnestly, oppressed by a sense of coming trouble.

"Beatrice," he said, "I wouldn't deceive you. I should be a fool to try,
shouldn't I? I can only repeat what I have said. I have never been near
the bank. I have never touched that money."

She shivered a little where she stood. It was obvious that she was
convinced, but her sense of personal injustice remained unabated.

"Then there is some one else," she declared, "who knows everything--some
one else, my man," she added, leaning across the table and shaking her
head with a sudden fierceness, "who can step into the witness box and
tell the truth about you. You must find out who it is. You must find out
who has stolen that money and get it back. I tell you I won't have
everything snatched away from me like this!" she cried, her voice
breaking hysterically, "I won't be robbed of life and happiness and
everything that counts! I want my money. Are you going to get it back for
me?"

"Beatrice, don't be absurd," he protested. "You know very well that I
can't do that. I am not in a position to go about making enquiries. I
shall be watched from now, day and night, if nothing worse happens. A
single step on my part in that direction would mean disaster."

"Then take me straight to the town hall, or the registry office, or
wherever you go here, and marry me," she demanded. "A hundred pounds a