"What—what do you mean?" she faltered.
"I mean what I say," said Peg firmly. "I thought better of you, that I did—having tea with him! Where did you pick him up I should like to know?"
Faith tried to answer, but no words would come.
"I suppose you thought I shouldn't recognize him," Peg went on wrathfully, "but I knew him right enough, the mean, selfish brute.... I——"
Faith caught her arm in shaking fingers.
"Peg, do you know who you're talking about?" she gasped. Peg laughed.
"Do I? I should rather say I do! Once seen never forgotten, my dear! I'm talking about the man you were having tea with the other day—Scammel, the brute we're all slaving for to make him rich."
For a moment Faith stared at her friend, then she laughed.
"Well, you're wrong, quite wrong," she said, with a little sigh of relief. "His name isn't Scammel at all—his name is Nicholas Forrester, and so...."
Peg shrugged her shoulders.