"I dare say it'll be for Miss Weston."
"Taking her to Holloway at once? Well, well. I dare say it's all for the best."
But Miss Weston was not to go without a noise. Mr. Ford saw to that. At the head of the stairs he conducted an altercation with Inspector Mordan in which defiance, abuse, and profane swearing were his chief arguments. It was beastly stupid and it was damned impudence to arrest Miss Weston, and it was also beastly impudence and damned stupid, and so forth. In the midst of which the wretched girl was shepherded by two detectives downstairs.
"My God, you might as well arrest me!" Mr. Ford cried, in final desperation.
"Perhaps I will," said the Inspector heavily, and glowered at him.
Mr. Ford paled and drew back. On the stairs below Miss Weston stopped and turned. "Oh, Edmund, don't," she said. "They can't hurt me. You know they can't."
Superintendent Bell drew Reggie aside.
"Think that throws any light?" Reggie said.
"Well, not a searchlight," said the Superintendent.
Miss Weston was driven off. Mr. Ford, looking dazed, came slowly downstairs, and to him went Gordon.
"Better get her a solicitor, you know," Gordon said.
