no suspicions
of me, and I was just beginning to think I was finally safe when he
remarked that the police knew of the missing necklace. I started, and
that gave me away to you, at all events. I saw you glance at Wendover's
card as it fell on the table, and I knew that you suspected me.

"After you had both left I had a bad half-hour. I could see I was in a
dangerous fix. You were aware of the address of the diamond merchant to
whom I had gone, and who, no doubt, would be able to identify me. I had
made my own position worse by lying about the War Office telegram, as
could easily be proved. There was also the possibility that the police
might find out about my return to Heredith on the night of the murder. I
did not then see what all these facts portended for me, though I do now.
But I feared arrest for the theft of the necklace, with the alternatives
of imprisonment if I kept silent, or facing a horrible scandal if I told
the truth. I was not prepared for either.

"I slept at an hotel that night because I feared arrest, but next
morning, early, I returned to the flat to exchange my khaki for a
civilian suit. After thinking over things during the night I had come to
the conclusion that I had most to fear from you, and I decided to watch
you. If you did not visit Wendover's place during the day it seemed to
me that I might be alarming myself needlessly. You know what happened. I
bolted when I saw you emerge from the buildings, and wandered about for
hours, not knowing what was best to do. When I discovered that I had no
money--nothing in my pockets except that cursed necklace, which I had
taken with me because I knew the flat would be searched--I decided to
return to the flat for the money I had left behind in my other clothes.
I was too late. When I reached Sherryman Street I saw two men watching
the flat from the garden of the square opposite, and I knew I would be
arrested if I went inside.

"What's the use of talking about what followed? I hadn't the ghost of a
show from the start. Do you think you know anything about London?
Believe me, you don't until you have been cast adrift in it with empty
pockets. It's a city of vampires and stony hearts, a seething inhuman
hell where you can wander till you drop and die without anyone giving a
pitying glance--much less a helping hand. Even a man's guardian angel
deserts him. It doesn't take a man very long to get to the gutter, to
fall lower and lower until there's nothing