In his hurry to catch a train to Hythe, Prelice quite forgot his determination to see Mrs. Rover, and learn how matters stood between her and the barrister. But the powers that direct the actions of men, and the lives that are made by such actions, brought about a meeting with the lady almost immediately. After shaking hands with the pseudo-prisoner, Prelice left the flat, to find Mrs. Rover arguing vehemently with the constable posted at the outer door. She wished to enter and see Shepworth; the constable, pursuant to strict orders, was trying to point out that his duty lay in stopping her, a point which Mrs. Rover obstinately refused to see.
"I wish to enter," she kept repeating. "It is necessary that I should see Mr. Shepworth, and——"
"Will I do instead?" said Prelice, suddenly appearing at the open door.
"Dorry!" cried Mrs. Rover, giving him the pet name of his youth. "What are you doing here?"
"I am talking to you," said the young man, shaking hands, "but just now I have been chatting with Ned."
"Then why can't I chat with him also?" demanded the lady.
Prelice shrugged his shoulders. "Ned is allowed to see no one, unless Inspector Bruge gives permission."
"What rubbish! Let me go in!" And Mrs. Rover, in a flaming temper, tried to push past the policeman.
"You can't, ma'am," he said firmly and respectfully; adding to the pale parlour-maid, who still lingered, out of sheer curiosity: "Close that door straight away."
"I'll report you," cried Mrs. Rover, when she saw the door practically banged in her angry face.