"I want to know her. I want her to have her revenge too. I am a rich man and I am off on his tracks to Australia next Friday."
"I don't think she'd see you, sir. She's never seen a gent since."
"You are an old friend, I can see?"
"Yes, sir, I am. Her dead mother and I were old friends. She was one of the good sort. She didn't put on airs because her daughter was a great actress. She used to sit and talk to me every night."
"Jones, you can manage it. Come, we'll go together."
As they drove along very little conversation passed between the two. At length the cab stopped at a house in a shabby street in Camden Town. "You stay here, sir, until I've seen her," said Jones, as he knocked at the door. The curtain was drawn aside for a moment before he was admitted. Five, ten minutes elapsed, and he did not return. Reg became impatient, but at last he heard the door open, and Jones was saying, "You see him, Miss Marjorie, he has a good face." But still she seemed to hesitate, and Reg, without waiting for more, walked up to her and grasping her hand, said in an earnest voice:
"Miss Williamson, I must see you."
She offered no further resistance, and Reg passed with her into a small sitting-room.
"Stay where you are, Jones," said Reg, as he saw him about to leave them alone. "You can hear all I have to say. Miss Williamson, I have heard all about your troubles, and I want you to listen to mine:" and again his sad story was recited.
"Now Miss Williamson I am off to Australia to take vengeance, and I want you to assist me."