"What!"
"I can see the scene now. This Miss Stubbs is sitting beside you, a dowdy figure in her home-made village gown. You are talking of the old days. You are stroking her hand. Suddenly you look up and start. The door has opened and a girl, all in black with a white face, is entering. Her eyes are haggard, her hair disordered. In her arms she clasps a little bundle."
"No, no! Not that!"
"Very well, we will dispense with the bundle. She stretches out her arms to you. She totters. You rush to support her. The scene is similar to one in Haddon Chambers' 'Passers-By.'"
"What happened in that?"
"What could happen? The fiancée saw the ruined girl had the greater claim, so she joined their hands together and crept silently from the room."
George laughed mirthlessly.
"There's just one thing you're overlooking. Where are we going to get the white-faced girl?"
Hamilton Beamish stroked his chin.
"There is that difficulty. I must think."