The two men in evening-dress glanced at each other again, and then passed out before Westerham as he held the door open for them.
When the little party was grouped in the dimly-lit passage Westerham went over to Kathleen and touched her lightly on the arm.
“Lady Kathleen,” he said, in a formal voice, “you will greatly oblige me by stepping to the other end of the passage. I have something to say to these gentlemen.”
Making a little inclination with her head, Lady Kathleen walked slowly away from them, leaving Westerham to confront Melun. And Westerham by no means minced matters.
“Of you,” he said in a voice full of scorn, “I will demand an explanation by-and-by. Your motive in dragging Lady Kathleen here is sufficiently obvious to me, but is probably not understood by these gentlemen, whom you have carefully brought to witness her humiliation.”
Melun would have protested but Westerham cut him short.
Westerham took out his card-case and offered a card to one of the men in evening-dress.
“My name,” he said, with a rather bitter little smile, “will probably convey nothing to you. If, however, you wish to know on what authority I speak, kindly communicate with Lord Dunton, whom you doubtless know. He will assure you that I am entirely to be trusted, and that the favour I am about to ask of you is fully justified.
“For purposes of his own, this individual”—he indicated Melun—“has brought Lady Kathleen here for apparently no other reason in the world than that her good name may be connected with a most unpleasant scandal. Believe me or not as you please, I can only assure you that Lady Kathleen was brought here against her will. Unpleasant though these surroundings may be, they are unfortunately connected—intimately connected—with Lord Penshurst's affairs. I ask you on his behalf, and on that of his daughter, to give me your word that what you have seen shall go no further.”