He sat down beside her. There was a little distance between them, and he sat rather stiffly, holding his hat on his knees.
"I should apologize for disturbing you," he began. "I have been twice to your house to-day, but you were out. What I wish to speak of is rather urgent. I heard that you might be here, and so I came."
"Yes," she said, and waited for him to say more.
"What is it?" she asked presently, as he did not speak at once.
"It is about Dalrymple—about Lord Redin," he said at last. "You used to know him. Do you ever see him now?"
Francesca looked at him with a little surprise, but she answered quietly, as though the question were quite a natural one.
"He was here five minutes ago. Yes, I often see him."
"Would you do him a service?" asked Griggs, in his calm and indifferent tone.
He was forcing himself to do what was plainly his duty, but he was utterly incapable of taking any interest in the matter. Francesca hesitated before she answered. An hour earlier she would have assented readily enough, but now the idea of doing anything which could tend to bring her into closer relations with Lord Redin was disagreeable.
"I do not think you will refuse," said Griggs, as she did not speak. "His life is in danger."