was gazing
towards the bookstall.

Drake was in no doubt as to who the woman was, and he felt his heart turn
to stone. He walked quickly back until he reached Conway's compartment.
It was empty save for him, but there was a reserved label in the window.

'Holloa!' said Conway, awkwardly enough. 'Are you going by this train?
You had better find a seat if you are.'

'But I'm not,' said Drake; 'I thought of going, but I have changed my
mind.' He leaned against the door of the carriage chatting incessantly to
Conway, with an eye upon the waiting-room. Once he saw the woman appear
at the door, but she retired again. Meanwhile Conway's embarrassment
increased. He said 'Good-bye' to Drake at least half-a-dozen times, but
on each occasion Drake had something new to say to him. At last the
whistle sounded and the train began to move. 'I say,' cried Drake,
running along by the carriage. 'My luggage is in the van. You might bring
it back with you from Dover, if you will,' and he stood watching the
train until it disappeared under the shed.

Then he walked into the waiting-room. He saw Clarice seated in a
corner, and went straight to her. She noticed that his face was white
and set, and she rose with some instinct of defiance. 'I owe you an
apology,' he said abruptly. 'The _Meteor_ is untrue from the first word
to the last. I mean to stay in London, and fight it; yesterday
afternoon I told you lies.'

'Why?' she asked.

'Sheer lunacy,' said he; and he got into a cab and drove to the offices
of his solicitor.

CHAPTER XVIII

Meanwhile Fielding picked up the pile of letters from the table in
Drake's chambers and went down into the street. He paused for a moment or
two at the pillar-box weighing the letters in his hand. Then he slipped
them into his pocket and hurried to Mrs. Willoughby's.

Mrs. Willoughby was moving restlessly about the drawing-room as he was
shown in. She turned impulsively towards him, holding out both hands. 'I
so hoped you would come,' she said. 'Well? You have seen him?'

'Yes.'

'What does he mean to do?' she asked anxiously, taking from a chair a
copy of the _Meteor_.

'Nothing,' replied Fielding. 'He resigns his seat; he gives up his
directorship; he is leaving England.'

Mrs. Willoughby's first look was of sheer incredulity. 'It's impossible!'
she exclaimed.

'I have just returned from his chambers. He has started from Charing
Cross already.'

Mrs. Willoughby sat down in the win