What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. She may be an infuriating little devil, but she is far from stupid. Wild had evidently discovered the body of Quilt Arnold, and was loudly expressing his anger and astonishment. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. Secretly she was gratified to be assigned to the rôle of an old traveller. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. Easily I could have killed you. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. Had he not said as much at Remenham House? She allowed him to march her through the chapel without resistance.
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