"What do you mean?"
"I mean that Madge has improved her acquaintance with the chap who pulled her out of the river a couple of weeks ago."
"Impossible, Nevill!"
"It is perfectly true. And do you know who the man is? It is none other than Jack Vernon, the artist."
"By heavens, Jack Vernon! The same who—"
"Yes, the same. I did not tell you before."
"And I did not dream of it. I wrote a letter of gratitude to the fellow, and told Madge to get his address from the landlord of the Black Bull—I did not know it myself, else—"
"I was afraid you might have some scruples. It is too late for that now."
"It was like your cursed cunning," exclaimed Stephen Foster. "Yes, I should have hesitated. But are you certain that Madge has seen the fellow since?"
"Certain? Why, I passed them in George street, Richmond, last evening, as I was driving to the Star and Garter. They were together in a trap, going toward Kew. That is the reason I determined to speak to you to-night."