"How could I recognise any one on such a foggy night?"
"Had you any idea who it was?" persisted Dowker.
"Well, I had," said Calliston reluctantly. "It is only fancy mind, because I did not see the man's face, but I thought his figure and bearing resembled some one I know."
"And the name of that some one?"
"Sir Rupert Balscombe."
Dowker uttered an ejaculation of astonishment and summed up the whole thing in his own mind.
"Cock-and-bull story," he muttered to himself. "He has learned since it was Lady Balscombe whom he saw and wants to put the blame on to the husband--pish!"
"Well," said Calliston anxiously.
"It's a grave accusation to make," said Dowker.
"I'm not making any accusation," retorted Calliston, violently. "I only think it was Sir Rupert. I'm not accusing him of anything. Is that all you want to know? If so, you'll oblige me by leaving my rooms."