CHAPTER XVIII.
THE LONELY CHORUS GIRL They stood together upon the platform watching the receding train.
The girl's eyes were filled with tears, but Laverick was conscious of a sense of immense relief.

Morrison had been at the station some time before the train was due to leave, and, although a physical wreck, he seemed only too anxious to depart.

He had all the appearance of a broken-spirited man.

He looked about him on the platform, and even from the carriage, in the furtive way of a criminal expecting apprehension at any moment.

The whistle of the train had been a relief as great to him as to Laverick.
"We'll write you to New York, care of Barclays," Laverick called out.
"Good luck, Morrison! Pull yourself together and make a fresh start." Morrison's only reply was a somewhat feeble nod.