Near him, her black form merged in the night, like a figure half chiselled out of a block of black stone. It was impossible to say what she knew, how deep she was involved with policemen and Embassies. But if she wanted to get away, it was not for him to object. He was anxious to be off himself. He felt that the business, the shop so strangely familiar to chief inspectors and members of foreign Embassies, was not the place for him. That must be dropped. But there was the rest. These savings. The money!
`You must hide me till the morning somewhere,' she said in a dismayed voice.
`Fact is, my dear, I can't take you where I live. I share the room with a friend.'
He was somewhat dismayed himself. In the morning the blessed tecs will be out in all the stations, no doubt. And if they once got hold of her, for one reason or another she would be lost to him indeed.
`But you must. Don't you care for me at all - at all? What are you thinking of?'
She said this violently, but she let her clasped hands fall in discouragement. There was a silence, while the mist fell, and darkness reigned undisturbed over Brett Place. Not a soul, not even the vagabond, lawless, and amorous soul of a cat, came near the man and the woman facing each other.
`It would be possible perhaps to find a safe lodging somewhere,' Ossipon spoke at last. `But the truth is, my dear, I have not enough money to go and try with - only a few pence. We revolutionists are not rich.'
He had fifteen shillings in his pocket. He added:
`And there's the journey before us, too - first thing in the morning at that.'
She did not move, made no sound, and Comrade Ossipon's heart sank a little. Apparently she had no suggestion to offer. Suddenly she clutched at her breast, as if she had felt a sharp pain there.
`But I have,' she gasped. `I have the money. I have enough money. Tom! Let us go from here.'
`How much have you got?' he inquired, without stirring to her tug; for he was a cautious man.
`I have the money, I tell you. All the money.
`What do you mean by it? All the money there was in the bank, or what?' he asked, incredulously, but ready not to be surprised at anything in the way of luck.
`Yes, yes!' she said nervously. `All there was. I've it all.'
`How on earth did you manage to get hold of it already?' he marvelled.
`He gave it to me,' she murmured, suddenly subdued and trembling. Comrade Ossipon put down his rising surprise with a firm hand.
`Why, then - we are saved,' he uttered slowly.
She leaned forward, and sank against his breast. He welcomed her there. She had all the money. Her hat was in the way of very marked effusion; her veil, too. He was adequate in his manifestations, but no more. She received them without resistance and without abandonment, passively, as if only half- sensible. She freed herself from his lax embrace without difficulty.
`You will save me, Tom,' she broke out, recoiling, but still keeping her hold on him by the two lapels of his damp coat. `Save me. Hide me. Don't let them have me. You must kill me first. I couldn't do it myself - I couldn't, I couldn't - not even for what I am afraid of.'