CHAPTER V.
Indecision had never been one of Francis Ledsam's faults, but four times during the following day he wrote out a carefully worded telegraphic message to Mrs.Oliver Hilditch, 10 b, Hill Street, regretting his inability to dine that night, and each time he destroyed it.

He carried the first message around Richmond golf course with him, intending to dispatch his caddy with it immediately on the conclusion of the round.
The fresh air, however, and the concentration required by the game, seemed to dispel the nervous apprehensions with which he had anticipated his visit, and over an aperitif in the club bar he tore the telegram into small pieces and found himself even able to derive a certain half-fearful pleasure from the thought of meeting again the woman who, together with her terrible story, had never for one moment been out of his thoughts.

Andrew Wilmore, who had observed his action, spoke of it as they settled down to lunch.
"So you are going to keep your engagement tonight, Francis ?" he observed.
The latter nodded.
"After all, why not ?" he asked, a little defiantly.

"It ought to be interesting." "Well, there's nothing of the sordid criminal, at any rate, about Oliver Hilditch," Wilmore declared.

"Neither, if one comes to think of it, does his wife appear to be the prototype of suffering virtue.