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As far as his present to the girl was concerned, he found himself less and less willing to make it in McVay's presence, and more and more unable to think of any way of getting rid of him except murder or the cedar-closet.

"My God, Holland," said McVay, "if that is the police, keep your wits about you or we are lost." It was a revelation to Geoffrey to find how completely, as his alarm showed, he had cast in his interests with McVay's. He stepped forward in silence and opened the door. Not the police, but a man in plain clothes was standing there. "I'm glad to see you safe, Mr. Holland," he said.

Here, having removed a complete burglar's outfit from his pockets, Geoffrey disposed McVay, being met with a readiness on McVay's part that seemed to prove either that he was sincere in his belief in Holland's safe return, or else was perfectly confident of being able to open the door as soon as Geoffrey's back was turned.

Again McVay's gaiety seemed momentarily dashed. "Very true," he said, "I had not thought of that. But then," he added more brightly, "who can tell if it will actually fall to my lot to tell her. Things happen so strangely. It may turn out that that is your part." "It may," said Geoffrey, "but only because I have had to shoot after all."

Having overheard Geoffrey telling him that he was not to betray the real state of things before Miss McVay, under penalty of losing his money, McVay took special delight in making him look like a fool, calling upon him to remember happenings which existed only in McVay's own fertile brain.

He thought of her as he had seen her asleep, of the curve of her eye-lashes on her cheek, of her raising those lashes, awaking to be met with McVay's revelations. Even if she were guilty, Geoffrey found it in his heart to pity her waking to learn that her brother was a prisoner.

When all was ready and spread in the dining-room this was McVay's suggestion; he said food was unappetising unless it were nicely served Geoffrey said: "Go and see if your sister is awake, and if she is," he added firmly, "I'll give you a few minutes alone with her, so that you can explain the situation fully." McVay nodded and slipped into the library.

Miserable as the detective was under this sort of treatment, it soon appeared that McVay's ease and facility had made an impression on him, and that he looked at his prisoner with a sort of wondering admiration. "Now, Holland, are we all ready? Cecilia, have you got your little bag?" he began when they were about to depart.

The point is that you seem to be under the impression that this will do you some good. Well, it won't. You stand just where you did before. You go to jail when the snow melts. Then I settle my affairs." McVay's face fell. "Really, Holland," he said, "I don't see how, if you are fond of a woman you can want ..." "... to spare her such a brother as you. Think it over."

He realised too, for the first time, that he could not hope for another word alone with Cecilia. McVay must always be present. It was a hideous sort of revenge that every waking minute must be spent in the man's company. Geoffrey had not appreciated the full meaning of his instructions to McVay to keep always in sight. Not a word or a look could be exchanged without McVay's seeing and rejoicing.