His silk hat, sober necktie drawn through a gold ring, and dark morning-coat, made it probable that he was 'in the City.' 'We used to know each other very well about five years ago,' he pursued, pocketing his change carelessly.

'Don't you remember a Mr.
Scawthorne, who used to be a lodger with some friends of yours called Rudd ?' On the instant memory revived in Clara.

In her schooldays she often spent a Sunday afternoon with Grace Rudd, and this Mr.Scawthorne was generally at the tea-table.

Mr.and Mrs.Rudd made much of him, said that he held a most important post in a lawyer's office, doubtless had private designs concerning him and their daughter.

Thus aided, she even recognised his features.
'And you knew me again after all this time ?' 'Yours isn't an easy face to forget,' replied Mr.Scawthorne, with the subdued polite smile which naturally accompanied his tone of unemotional intimacy.