He waved his hand impatiently. “My dear girl,” he said, “I have always been tempted to admire your beauty rather than your brains. I am stating a fact. You elected to come away with me. What can your estimable Gertstein think?”

“I don’t care what he thinks. I shall write to him this minute,” she retorted.

“If I didn’t know you so well, I might think that you were in love with your husband,” he declared. “Upon my soul I am beginning to be sorry I cluttered myself up with you.” He menaced her fiercely with a forefinger. “How long do you think it would be after you had written to him, before Labar would have you in the dock? What is it that the police want you for? Attempted murder! Forgery! Do you think that the detectives will not be watching to get a line on you? You poor fool! From now on you will not lift a finger without my permission, or I will throw you to the police.” He banged his fist fiercely on to a table and glared at her. “Do you get that? Ten, perhaps fifteen years in Aylesbury. That’s what is waiting for you if you start any funny business.”