"Then I must remind you," said Mr. Manners, coldly, "that Mary Parkinson has your portrait in her possession."
"True, sir, true," exclaimed Mark Inglefield. "How could it have escaped me? And, now that you have reminded me, I believe you said that the girl herself unblushingly proclaimed that the portrait was that of her betrayer." He said this glibly; a plan was forming in his mind by which he could avert the threatened danger.
"She proclaimed it," responded Mr. Manners, "so Mr. Parkinson informed me, but I do not think I said she proclaimed it unblushingly; I had no warranty for saying so."
"The expression is mine, and fits the case; she has trumped up the story, very likely at the instigation of her accomplice."
"If that is so he proves himself a clumsy scoundrel. Your statements established, Inglefield, you must bring this man to justice. It is a conspiracy to ruin you, therefore a criminal offence."
"You may depend," said Mark Inglefield, vivaciously--his plan was formed, and he was confident of success--"that I shall not allow this scoundrel to escape me."
"We will dismiss the matter for to-night," said Mr. Manners; "be sure that you are ready at eleven in the morning. And now I wish to speak to you upon another matter."
"Very well, sir," said Inglefield, and thought: "What is the old fool going to bring forward now?"
[CHAPTER XXXIX.]
"I told you," said Mr. Manners, "that the matter we have left is one vital to your interests. The matter we are now approaching is vital to mine."