And why, just before he had disappeared, had Heyton looked round him,
secretively, cautiously, as if he did not wish to be seen? It was
ridiculous, Derrick told himself; but it seemed to him as if Heyton were
hiding something. Half-unconsciously, he made a mental note of the spot
at which Heyton had made that curious pause in his progress. But Derrick
did not go to it; he wanted particularly to avoid Heyton--and Miriam,
everyone connected with that wretched past which still hung over him
like a cloud. So he returned to the road and went straight back to the
inn.
Awaiting him, he found a letter from the engineers concerning matters
which needed his immediate presence in London. He had just time to
snatch a hasty breakfast, left word with the landlord for Reggie that
he, Derrick, was obliged to go to London but would return by the night
train, and reached the station just as the train came in. He was hot
and, no doubt, looked rather worried; for there was no means of letting
Celia know that he had gone, or of making an appointment with her. Of
course, he pictured her wandering about the wood in the hope of seeing
him, and acutely imagined her disappointment.