"Take enough to last a few months," she added hastily. "Give me the
rest. I can hide it and take care of myself. Even if they trace me I
can get off. A woman can always do that more easily than a man.
Don't worry about me. Go somewhere, start a new life. If it takes
years, I will wait. Let me know where you are. We can find some way
in which I can come back into your life. No, no,"--Carlton had
caught her passionately in his arms--"even that cannot weaken me.
The die is cast. We must go."

She tore herself away from him and fled into her room, where, with
set face and ashen lips, she stuffed article after article into her
grip. With a heavy heart Carlton did the same. The bottom had
dropped out of everything, yet try as he would to reason it out, he
could find no other solution but hers. To stay was out of the
question, if indeed it was not already too late to run. To go
together was equally out of the question. Constance had shown that.
"Seek the woman," was the first rule of the police.

As they left the apartment they could see a man across the street
following them closely. They were shadowed. In despair Carlton
turned toward his wife. A sudden idea had flashed over her. There
were two taxicabs at the station on the corner.

"I will take the first," she whispered. "Take the second and follow
me. Then he cannot trace us."

They were off, leaving the baffled shadow only time to take the
numbers of the cab. Constance had thought of that. She stopped and
Carlton joined her. After a short walk they took another cab.