I heard you call her by that name." "You saw us together ?" exclaimed Wethermill.

"Then you can understand how infamous the suggestion is." But Ricardo had seen the girl half an hour before he had seen her with Harry Wethermill.

He could not but vividly remember the picture of her as she flung herself on to the bench in the garden in a moment of hysteria, and petulantly kicked a satin slipper backwards and forwards against the stones.

She was young, she was pretty, she had a charm of freshness, but--but--strive against it as he would, this picture in the recollection began more and more to wear a sinister aspect.

He remembered some words spoken by a stranger.