was something else
behind it all," Philip said grimly. "You see, he'd discovered that I
hadn't used any of the money. He couldn't fit in any of my doings with
the reports they'd had about Douglas. Somehow or other--I can't tell
how--another suspicion seems to have crept into the man's brain. All the
time he talked to me I could see him trying to read in my face whether
there wasn't something else! He'd stumbled across a puzzle of which the
pieces didn't fit. He has gone to England--gone to Detton Magna--gone to
see whether there are any missing pieces to be found. He may be back any
day now."

"But what could he discover?" she faltered.

"God knows!" Philip groaned. "There's the whole ghastly truth there, if
fortune helped him, and he were clever enough, if by any devilish chance
the threads came into his hand. I don't think--I don't think there was
ever any fear from the other side. I had all the luck. But, Elizabeth,
sometimes I am terrified of this man Dane. I didn't mean to tell you
this, but it's too late now. Do you know that I am watched, day by day? I
pretend not to notice it--I am even able, now and then, to shut it out
from my own thoughts--but wherever I go there's some one shadowing me,
some one walking in my footsteps. I'm perfectly certain that if you were
to go to police headquarters here, you could find out where I have spent
almost every hour since I took that room in Monmouth House."

She gripped his fingers fiercely.

"Philip! Philip!"

He leaned forward, gazing with peculiar, almost passionate intentness,
into the faces of the people as they swept along Broadway.

"Look at them, Elizabeth!" he muttered. "Look at that mob of men and
women sweeping along the pavements there, every kind and shape of man,
every nationality, every age! They are like the little flecks on the top
of a wave. I watched them when I first came and I felt almost reckless.
You'd think a man could plunge in there and be lost, wouldn't you? He
can't! I tried it. Is there anywhere else in the world, I wonder? Is
there anywhere in the living world where one can throw off everything of
the past, where one can take up a new life, and memory doesn't come?"

She shook her head. She was more composed now. The moment of feverish
excitement had passed. Her shrewd and level common sense had begun to
reassert itself.

"There isn't any such place, Philip," she told him, "and if there were it
wouldn't be worth while your trying to find