John Egerton said no more, but followed. That illuminating unspoken word “murder,” which had shown him the whole awfulness of this affair had shown him also the urgency of the present moment, the necessity of helping Stephen to “get her away.” For Margery Byrne’s sake. Just how he felt towards Stephen at that moment, what he would have done if Stephen had been a bachelor, he had had not time to consider. And it did not matter. For Mrs. Byrne’s⁠—for Margery’s⁠—sake, something must be done, as Stephen said. And he, John Egerton, must help.

“What are you going to do?” he said.

Stephen was crouched on his haunches, busily tidying Emily’s nightdress, pulling it about.

“The river,” he said shortly. “It’s high tide⁠—Thank God!” he added.