"What is it, Richard?"
"You are going to meet Chartersea," I said.
He must have seen the futility of a lie, or else was scared out of all contrivance. "Yes," he said weakly.
"You have allowed it to become the talk of London that this filthy nobleman is blackmailing you for your daughter," I went on, without wasting words. "Tell me, is it, or is it not, true?"
As he did not answer, I retained a handful of the grained silk on his shoulder as a measure of precaution.
"Is this so?" I repeated.
"You must know, I suppose," he said, under his breath, and with a note of sullenness.
"I must," I said firmly. "The knowledge is the weapon need, for I, too, am going to meet Chartersea."
He ceased quivering all at once.
"You are going to meet him!" he cried, in another voice. "Yes, yes, it is so,—it is so. I will tell you all."