Mills had hurried on into the bathroom, and the other two were
preparing to follow. She stopped them.
"Mr. Lessingham," she said, "listen. Captain Griffiths has been
here. He knows or guesses everything."
"Everything?"
Philippa nodded.
"Helen must bind your head up, of course," she continued. "After
that, think! What can we do? Captain Griffiths knows that there
was no Hamar Lessingham at college with Dick, that he never visited
Wood Norton, that there is some mystery about your arrival here,
and he told me to my face that he believes you to be Bertram
Maderstrom."
"What a meddlesome fellow!" Lessingham grumbled, holding his
handkerchief to his forehead.
"Oh, please be serious!" Helen begged, looking up from the bandage
which she was preparing. "This is horrible!"
"Don't I know it!" Philippa groaned. "Mr. Lessingham, you must
please try and escape from here. You can have the car, if you like.
There must be some place where you can go and hide until you can
get away from the country."
"But I'm dining here to-night," Lessingham protested. "I'm not
going to hide anywhere."
The two women exchanged glances of despair.
"Can't I make you understand!" Philippa exclaimed pathetically.
"You're in danger here--really in danger!"
Lessingham's demeanour showed no appreciation of the situation.
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