There was a humming in his ears; and a mist floated before his
eyes. By the time that the motor-'bus was come to the south side of the
bridge, Soames had succeeded in slowing down his mental roundabout in
some degree; and now he began grasping at the flying ideas which
the diminishing violence of his brain storm enabled him, vaguely, to
perceive.
The first fruits of his reflections were bitter. He viewed the events
of the night in truer focus; he saw that by his flight he had sealed his
fate--had voluntarily outlawed himself. It became frightfully evident
to him that he dared not seek to draw from his bank, that he dared not
touch even his modest Post Office account. With the exception of some
twenty-five shillings in his pocket, he was penniless!
How could he hope to fly the country, or even to hide himself, without
money?
He glanced suspiciously about the 'bus; for he perceived that an old
instinct had prompted him to mount one which passed the Oval--a former
point of debarkation when he lived in rooms near Kennington Park.
Someone might recognize him!
Furtively, he scanned his fellow passengers, but perceived no
acquaintance.
What should he do--where should he go? It was a desperate situation.
The inspector who had cared to study that furtive, isolated figure,
could not have failed to mark it for that of a hunted man.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134