The terror was upon him, too.

He felt his forehead, and his hand, when he drew it away, was wet.

It was not Morrison alone but he himself who might be implicated in this man's knowledge.

The thoughts flitted through his brain like parts of a nightmare.

He saw Morrison arrested, he saw the whole story of the missing pocket-book in the papers, he imagined his bank manager reading it and thinking of that parcel of mysterious bank-notes deposited in his keeping on the morning after the tragedy...
Laverick was a strong man, and his moment of weakness, poignant though it had been, passed.