"Have you communicated with Colonel Rannock's late body-servant?"
"Chater? Yes, naturally. What do you know of Chater?"
"Very little, madam. I happened to hear of him from a gentleman who had also been making inquiries about your son."
"For what reason?"
"In Lady Perivale's interest. The gentleman has since married Lady Perivale."
"Mr. Haldane! Yes, I heard of the marriage. I was glad to hear of it. Lady Perivale had suffered a great injustice from her likeness to that wretched woman."
"Pardon me, madam. You know the saying—Cherchez la femme. If you can tell me anything about that woman, and Colonel Rannock's relations with her, it may help me in my search for him."
"Oh, it is a sad, sad story. My dear son began life so well, in his grandfather's regiment. There had been Rannocks in the Lanarkshire ever since Killicrankie. He was a fine soldier, and distinguished himself in Afghanistan, and it was only after he made that wretched woman's acquaintance that he began to go wrong—seriously wrong. He may have been a little wild even before then, but not more than many other young men. It was that woman and her surroundings that ruined him."
"I take it that happened about ten years ago."
"Ten years? Yes. How did you know that?"